


Claiming Run

by 3rdgenderfromthesun



Series: Truckers Verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Anal, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Awkward Romance, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Born Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Creepy Uncle Peter Hale, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Knotting, Lactation Kink, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mommy Issues, Mommy Lydia, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Oral, Past Rape/Non-con, Prostitution, Snarky Derek, Suicidal Thoughts, Truckers, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 22:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdgenderfromthesun/pseuds/3rdgenderfromthesun
Summary: Stiles was convinced his mate wasn't out there, but just when he was ready to put life behind him a snarky sourwolf stepped in his way with an offer he couldn't refuse... a business partnership as a trucker with sexy times on the side.





	1. Chapter 1

Since Beacon Hills was such a tiny town explaining that the Claiming Runs were the largest events didn’t do them much justice. However, saying that runs were also the biggest in every city across the US _did_ explain how important and intense the affairs were. Saying that the Claiming was Beacon Hills’ _only_ event would downplay the glory that was the Strawberry Fields Parade and Pie Week, which was Stiles’ favorite event in the world and no one could dismiss it in his presence. The runs took place once every three months but Omegas were only required to go on one a year. The problem was they were _required_ to go until they were mated and, of course, that was why Stiles completely fucking hated the Claiming Runs.

Stiles was the oldest Omega participant in Beacon Hills, but _not_ in the world. He’d Googled it to make sure. He wasn’t the oldest still attending, although considering the oldest participant was about eighty she probably wasn’t still _running_. Sadly, it was a requirement for all unmated Omegas to run, even if they had to be rolled kicking and screaming down a hill to get them to participate.

“I’m not rolling you, kicking and screaming, down a hill to get you to do the damn run again. _You’re_ _going_ ,” Sherriff Stilinski growled.

“But _daaaad_!” Stiles whined as the man pointed him towards the sign up sheet.

“You’re twenty one years old, Stiles! Stop whining and act like an adult!” Stilinski snarled, shoving him out of his office and slamming the door.

“That’s not fair!” Stiles shouted at the closed door.

A few snickers greeted his entrance into the main area of the station, and Stiles turned to find them smirking at him. A few years ago a new deputy had arrived in town and Stiles had been hopeful. An Alpha who was a deputy would fit his lifestyle perfectly. His father would be thrilled! They’d both gone on the run and he’d claimed Jackson Whitmore. _Jackson Whitmore_. The biggest asshole in the world, and Stiles didn’t need Google to confirm that. Still, they were happy together so Stiles couldn’t really be _that_ mad about it. Of course, the fact that Jackson now _visited the station regularly_ did put a general damper in his mood. He swore the bastard was turning his ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ against him.

Stiles gave the room a disgusted look and stomped off while they chortled at him. Deputy Parrish followed him out the door and caught at his arm, stopping him with a polite smile that completely did _not_ fool Stiles, because anyone mated to Jackson had to be evil deep down inside.

“Hey, Stiles. Don’t let them get you down,” Parrish smiled softly, “You’re a great catch.”

“Thanks, Jordan,” Stiles snarked, “Now if only someone would _catch me_.”

“Someone will,” Parrish insisted, “You just have to branch out a bit. Maybe run in a different area.”

“Why?” Stiles huffed, “You’re supposed to find your mate with someone you had contact with as a child. I’ve _never_ left town!”

“So hasn’t anyone ever moved away? Or visited? What about field trips?” Parrish tried, “Or maybe they’re just too young?”

“Great,” Stiles huffed, “I’m an unintentional cradle robber!”

Stiles jerked away from him in frustration and stomped off to his jeep, pulling his door open and climbing in to slam his hands down on the steering wheel in frustration. Stiles hated that his entire life was on hold. Omegas weren’t allowed to hold down jobs until they were mated for safety reasons. Since they were rare fighting for equal rights was virtually impossible. Nobody cared. Alphas and betas ran the world and omegas were just an inconvenience. Now Stiles was starting to lose hope and the damn run was a symbol of his pointless existence. He’d _tried_ what Parrish had suggested, tracking down everyone who had ever lived in the town. He’d gone and hung out at museums he’d visited in the past and put up flyers explaining that he was searching for his mate who might have visited as a child. He’d gotten more people to come to the run and had gone to runs in multiple other towns. No luck. He was sick of everything and everyone.

Stiles froze, staring across the street at the animal clinic. Scott had gotten the job there so he could be close to Stiles. Everyone had assumed that they’d be mated, but when they’d gone on their first run Scott had claimed the new girl, Allison. They’d barely known each other. Stiles had found the ‘territory’ Scott had staked out and seen them going at it like animals. He’d fled in distress, found a large tree, curled up at the base of it and wept brokenly. He’d wandered around after that hoping to find some comfort, perhaps from his _true_ mate, but almost everyone had paired off and those who hadn’t he didn’t have any longing to approach. A few had called for him, flirting and trying to get him to come into their territory so they could enact the chase, but he’d had no longing and had skirted them until the race was over. Their friendship had been stinted since then and Stiles missed him. They’d done everything together prior to their first mating run- Scott’s last- and Stiles wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap. He missed his best friend. He hated that he barely even knew the name of the child Allison had birthed a year later, but he didn’t hate the idea that was swarming his mind upon seeing Scott help a patient carry an elderly dog into the building.

 _Euthanasia_.

A slow smile spread across Stiles’ face. He couldn’t change the legislation. Omegas had no voting rights _until they mated_. He couldn’t even speak in a public meeting. Hell, he couldn’t _attend_ them. He had to keep a GPS running on his phone and wear a chastity belt just to leave the house, but even that was an improvement since in previous generations Omegas had been forced to stay in their home with the exception of mating runs. Before that there had been arranged marriages. What had changed things? Well, aside from technology there was a serious change in legislation made when Omegas demanded them. They’d snuck out of their homes and tied themselves to buildings. They’d picketed. They’d gone on sex strikes and worn chastity belts even around their mates. Stiles wanted freedom. He wanted to stop going on run after run after run with absolutely no purpose in mind. So he had a plan. He’d go out with a bang. If he couldn’t live for himself he wasn’t going to live _at all_.

XXX

The Alphas went out onto the preserve a week before each quarterly run, fought each other, and staked out a territory. Then they’d camp in their territories, surviving by hunting and gathering until the Omegas were released. The Omegas would be led to the edge of the preserve safe in their parent’s custody. There they would strip off their clothes and chastity belts and head into the woods to sniff out the Alpha’s territory. When they caught a scent they liked they’d follow it to the alpha. They might even have their betas with them to give it the full pack experience. Once inside their territory the Alpha would give chase, rushing after the omega who would instinctively flee. If they crossed another unmated alphas territory, even unintentionally, while they were running that alpha could join in. First to catch the omega got to keep them for life, although supposedly the omega could still reject any alpha who caught them. Once caught something would happen that would trigger the Omega’s heat… but Stiles had no idea what it would be. The school’s lessons liked to keep some mystery for them. Only the damn Alphas knew what would happen next, and no amount of Googling had given Stiles the answers. Apparently it was something Alphas liked to keep to themselves. Stiles had read a ton of fanfiction that depicted everything from biting to watersports being the trigger.

Stiles snuck out to the preserve and laid his scent down on a tree there. He’d have to come back and find it and his urine was the easiest method. Plus, if he _did_ have a mate out there than they’d pick the tree as their territory and stop the whole thing. Deep down Stiles had to admit that he wanted his life to begin more than he wanted his life to end. Once he’d had the tree marked he climbed it and tied a noose up in the tree. During the run he’d locate it and end his miserable existence. His suicide note was addressed to his local senator. It would make the papers and maybe… _maybe_ … he’d make a difference. Stiles finished tying the noose and then lashing it to the three and started his awkward climb back down.

Which, of course, was when Stiles fell. His jacket got caught in the branches and Stiles went down hard and stopped short, dangling from his wrist. Excruciating pain shot up his arm and he screamed in agony, choking on a sob as he stared up at his precarious situation through watering eyes. Spots were dancing behind his eyes as he looked around himself for a way out of his horrid tangle. He tried twisting his hand but his damn wrist hurt so much he nearly threw up. He swallowed down the bile crawling up his throat and tried to reach up instead. He managed to catch part of his jacket and pull up with his uninjured wrist. It gave him a break on the pain but he was still hanging precariously.

“What are you doing?” A voice demanded sharply.

Stiles’ eyes flew down to see someone standing below him, but he wasn’t focused on who or what they looked like. Whoever it was, they were help and that was all Stiles cared about.

“Help me down!” Stiles choked out, tears making his vision blurry, “I’m hurt!”

“Stupid fucking omegas,” the man below him swore angrily and began to climb the tree.

When he was poised on the branch Stiles was unwittingly attached to he sliced through his jacket with a sharp claw, freeing Stiles’ injured wrist. Stiles dropped a foot, still instinctively holding on to the jacket. The smaller branch it was caught in took that moment to snap and the alpha barely saved himself as Stiles plummeted to the ground in a mess of bark, leaves, and lost pride. Stiles groaned in pain and the alpha dropped down beside him, smelling of concern that was probably instinctive since alphas responded to omegas whether they wanted to or not. He began untangling Stiles from his mess and the omega was vocally grateful.

“I can’t believe this shit,” Stiles huffed irritably, staring down at his swollen hand, “I think it’s broken.”

The alpha leaned over to study his wound and Stiles glanced up for the first time and caught his breath. The young man was a few years older than Stiles and painfully attractive. He had sharp cheekbones, light hazel eyes, and an aristocratic nose. His jaw was strong but almost hidden beneath stubble that Stiles dubbed ‘artful’ but was probably unavoidable since his muscle mass indicated he was probably a testosterone factory. He was _shirtless_ and it was absolutely salacious. The man was ripped, his tight jeans hugging hips that deserved a proper worship. He had enough hair on his chest to make Stiles want to rub all over him without making the alpha look unkempt.

“Whoa,” Stiles gaped, “Dude, you’re, like, ridiculous.”

“The alphas are supposed to do that,” He informed him, smelling of alpha and just enough sweat to be attractive rather than dirty.

“What?” Stiles asked lamely.

“Mark out a territory,” Attractive Alpha waved at the tree, “You’re not supposed to be doing that. We are.”

“Oh, yeah, well…” Stiles struggled, “I’m a progressive kind of omega, you know? Like… I thought… why shouldn’t _I_ chase alphas? So here I am. Marking out a territory. Maybe claim me an alpha.”

Baywatch Babe blinked, “Do they even know to look for your territory?”

“Uh.”

“They’ll all be in theirs,” Gorgeous Grumbler pointed out, “They won’t even pass by here.”

“That’s why I’m doing it now!” Stiles gestured wildly, “They’ll be out in a week choosing _their_ territories and they’ll come across mine. I’m tired of running around like an idiot every year. Time to get proactive! They want me, they can fucking come and find me!”

PHAT cocked his head to one side, “I saw the noose.”

Stiles deflated, “Then why’d you ask?”

“I was giving you a chance to reach out for help instead of dangle like an idiot. Again,” Provocative Prat replied with a huff of irritation, “Hanging is about the worst way you can go. Werewolves can go for ten minutes without air, but you’ll be _hurting_ after seven. You’ll keep trying to breathe instinctively but you won’t be able to. Your lungs will burn, your eyes will water, and your limbs will go numb one at a time all before you black out with your ears ringing.”

“I…” Stiles swallowed, “I know.”

“And you still chose _this_ method?” Libidinous Lame-o pointed upwards.

Stiles steeled himself and glared angrily at him, “You have _no idea_ what being an omega is like. I can’t leave the house without locking my fucking genitals in an iron prison. I have to leave school to go home to piss or _get dehydrated_ in order to finish a day at school. Most omegas drop out within a year of hitting puberty because it’s just not worth the UTI’s and degradation! I can’t vote. I can’t walk safely down the street. I can’t work to support my household. My dad is sick and tired of me being this huge fucking burden and my mom left us when she realized I was going to be a worthless womb instead of a productive member of society.”

Superior Siren nodded, “My point was that a wolfsbane bullet would be faster, not that you _shouldn’t_.”

Stiles gaped at him, “You’re saying I _should_ kill myself?”

“It’s your fucking body,” Titular Twat replied.

“I…” Stiles paused and then let his eyes drop, “I was hoping someone would stop me.”

His Royal Hotness shrugged, “Stop.”

“No, I mean, _at the run_ ,” Stiles groaned, running his hand down one side of his face, “I’m not doing this again. This will be my ninth run. I’m either leaving these woods with a mate or in a body bag.”

Beguiling Bastard shook his head, “You’re an idiot.”

Stiles watched with his jaw dropped as Charming Cunt walked away from him without a backward glance. Stiles finished setting up his area, putting a little more effort into making it look like a territory after what he’d told Derek. He made a small fence out of piles of sticks and a fire pit off to one side. It looked piss poor but he wasn’t all that invested. Besides, his fucking wrist hurt.

Stiles slunk home and back up to his room. His father was home and drunk in the living room, staring over some files. He hadn’t noticed that Stiles was gone for three hours and since he was human he wouldn’t pick up the scent of injury past all the booze stinking up the living room. While John was required to keep the key to Stiles’ chastity belt he wasn’t strict with it. Stiles plucked it from the bathroom cabinet and unlocked himself so he could use the bathroom. Some of the nicer ones had slits that allowed omegas to use the bathroom, but Stiles’ was old and from a generation that expected omegas to stay home most of the time.

Stiles sat on his bed and poked his hand, trying to get it to pop back into place. He gave up eventually and left home again, securing his belt and checking up on his dad automatically on his way out. He was still deep in thought over whatever case he was facing and Stiles didn’t want to bother him. Stiles was relieved to see that Melissa was home when he got to Scotts house. He knocked on the door while feeling a deep pang of misery that he could no longer just let himself in. Scott opened the door and gaped at him.

“Stiles. Wow. Um… Oh, you’re hurt,” Scott’s nose caught the scent of injury and he looked disappointed.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, holding his purple wrist up, “Can I see Melissa? If it’s not too much trouble? I don’t have money for an Omega ER visit.”

“Uh, yeah, let me get her.”

Stiles waited until Melissa came outside, sitting himself down on the porch rather than stepping into the open door. The mosquitos were coming out, buzzing around him irritably. They occasionally could find skin soft enough to bite on a werewolf but most of it was covered on Stiles. Melissa sat down beside him on the porch swing.

“What happened?” She asked firmly.

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Nobody hurt me. Nobody even _notices_ me. I’m just a cluts.”

Melissa nodded and put out her hand. Stiles placed his wrist in her care and she took the pain while examining him before giving his wrist a sharp jerk. Stiles screamed but he’d gotten used to ignoring pain quickly. Stiles sniffled miserably and Melissa put her arm around his shoulder, giving him a gentle hug.

“He misses you,” She told him, “I can’t imagine how hurt you are, but can you forgive him? He couldn’t help whom he chose. It’s instinct.”

“I know,” Stiles replied, “I’m not mad at him. Will you tell him that?”

“Can’t you?”

Stiles shook his head miserably. Melissa understood and gave him a gentle hug, pressing a kiss to his temple. She was an omega as well- although human- and she’d been trapped in an abusive marriage for decades. Her husband left her riddled in bruises, but he also let her work and her nursing job was her passion. She’d asked Stiles’ father for help, but there wasn’t much he could do besides show up and snarl at her husband until he backed down. Rafael was a bastard, but he wasn’t a particularly powerful alpha. He’d apparently been a sweet man when they’d been younger, but that had quickly worn off once he’d claimed Melissa and gotten a pup on her. As an omega she had no rights, no way to refuse him or leave. Rafe had recently been promoted at work and was traveling quite a bit, so it hadn’t been as bad recently. Still, he was an asshole and knew he was, so he’d allowed Scott to stay with his new wife and cub to appease Melissa.

Melissa gave him another gentle hug, stroking his hair gently, and Stiles felt a pang of loneliness that had him squirming away from her. Self-pity wasn’t going to get him anywhere. His own mother had well and truly rejected him. As a beta she had a choice. She could divorce her husband and abandon her teenage omega son. She’d chosen that path while Stiles had _no choices_ left to him but death. He wouldn’t let himself dwell on tiny comforts that gave him nothing but an empty feeling in his gut afterwards.

“Thanks for your help,” Stiles said as he hoped off her porch, “I’ll come by and weed your garden tomorrow.”

“You don’t have-“

“I gotta run. Need to pee,” Stiles stated, hurrying away from her. She wouldn’t stop him. She had treated him for more UTI’s than injuries over the years and was worried about his kidneys.

Stiles’ wrist had finished healing by the time he got home again so he was free to head upstairs and do a bit of homework. Stiles wasn’t allowed to work or go to college, but he was also bored as hell so he’d found a college curriculum book at the library and made himself lessons. He spent most of his day doing chores around the house and the rest studying anything he could get his hands on. Every subject peeked his interest and the world was at his fingertips since he’d hacked the neighbor’s router. Stiles distracted himself from his emotional turmoil in a well-written article on territorial marking and let sleep take him right at his desk.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles met up at the starting line with the rest of the town’s omegas. Most of them were young and fresh, just hitting legal age and eager to mate. During Stiles’ first run he’d looked around himself with wide eyes, eager to see other omegas naked for the first time. He’d marveled at some of the fancier chastity belts. Jackson had one made of cut resistant fabric that looked more like underwear than a purity device. He didn’t have the scars Stiles did around his hips from a hard plastic cage constantly tearing through it’s padding to chafe his body. It didn’t even fit correctly because it was second hand and Stiles’ attempts to pad it with the guts from an old foam pad hadn’t helped overmuch. Now Stiles was just relieved to be out of the device for three days straight. He could officially walk around buck-naked, piss whenever and wherever he wanted, and get a tan on his ass if he wanted. Stiles intended to enjoy the last vestiges of his life, but he wasn’t about to seek out alpha territory.

Instead, when the ancient bone horn sounded telling the alphas lurking in the woods that omegas were about to join them, Stiles began a slow walk into the woods. He breathed deep and gazed around himself at the field that marked the starting point. The woods beyond were sounding with howls as alphas tried to encourage omegas to join them. Stiles dug his toes into mud and smiled at the squish between his toes. He found some berries along the edge and began to pick them with an eager smile. He’d eat like a pauper but he’d enjoy himself nonetheless. After the first year he’d learned some survival techniques to avoid starving the entire time he was out in the woods. Now he had little caches around the woods to help himself survive and one of them was a Ziploc bag with a cloth bag inside it to keep it from molding. He’d buried it near the berry bush for this exact purpose and now he dug it up to start filling it with plump red deliciousness. Stiles had had a full breakfast that morning, but he wasn’t going to take any chances. The omegas were all bolting past him into the woods where food required more digging and hunting.

Once Stiles had a full bag he walked into the woods and easily located his tree where… his rope was gone. Fuck. Stiles sighed and climbed up to hang his bag of berries where less animals would harass it. He’d still have to worry about squirrels, but at least he wouldn’t attract a bear. He scraped his ass while working his way up and down, but at least he was prepared. Stiles surveyed his ‘territory’. He’d stocked supplies in the hollow of the tree and he pulled them out now, relieved that they hadn’t been pilfered. Stiles had a sleeping bag, thinner rope that wouldn’t do for hanging but was perfect for camping, a tarp, flint, tinder, a hoodie, shoes, and a few protein bars in case his hunting went poorly. He was fast on his feet when partly formed so he doubted he’d have trouble catching food even with the werewolves around him, but he believed in being prepared.

Stiles slipped on the shoes and glared around himself. He suspected that Beautiful Beefcake was the rope pilferer, but he wasn’t around at the moment so Stiles was going to go hunting. It might take until he was famished to catch something and cook it, so he was going to get started right away. An hour passed with Stiles basking in the sunlight while waiting for pray to wander through his clearing. He finally caught himself a nice rabbit after a merry chase. He broke the cute furball’s neck and took it back to his little area to roast. He had a fire started and was just starting to build a spit when the first omega wandered by.

She was a pretty young thing with dark hair and eyes, her hips shifting as she flirted with Stiles. Then she paused in confusion and sniffed the air while Stiles stared at her with wide eyes.

“Um… Hi,” Stiles cleared his throat.

“The fuck are you _doing_?” She asked with a look of disgust, “Alphas are supposed to be taking care of us. Why aren’t you looking? Why do you… _did you mark that tree_?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “No offense, but you’re not my type.”

She gave him a disgusted and offended look before turning sharply and storming off, “Freak!”

Stiles shrugged. He didn’t care if people were weirded out by his behavior. It wasn’t as if he’d survive to face the rumors. Stiles was searching for some herbs to flavor his coney when the weird alpha reappeared.

“Wow, you’ve got quite the camp back there,” He stated, startling Stiles into an unattractive shriek.

“Dude!” Stiles gasped, hand on his chest, “You scared the crap out of me! Don’t do that!”

“I’m not dude,” He huffed.

“Yeah, well you haven’t exactly given me a _name_.”

“Derek,” He replied flatly.

“Derek,” Stiles nodded as he stood, “Yeah, it’s a decent territory. Wait… Derek _Hale_? Holy shit, I knew you looked familiar! I tracked your family to NY. I joined a run there hoping someone from your family was the mate I was looking for.”

“I don’t do mating runs,” Derek stated, his tone forbidding any questioning.

“Oookay,” Stiles nodded, “Can I have my rope back?”

“No,” Derek stated.

Stiles sighed, “I know you think I’d do better with a gun, but I haven’t got one and my dad changes his gun safe combo weekly. It’s not happening.”

“If you don’t catch an alpha I’ll break your neck. It’s faster and virtually painless,” Derek stated.

Stiles blinked, “That’s… very sweet of you. I think. Are you some sort of serial killer?”

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes, then bent down and plucked a few leaves from the ground, “Here. Sage.”

“Thanks. Uh… join me for dinner?” Stiles offered awkwardly.

Derek turned away without replying and Stiles watched him head towards the tree and the little tarp tent he’d made for himself with the twine and some sticks. Derek stood just outside of Stiles’ stick fence and Stiles froze as he realized what this was. Derek was accepting his invitation… as a _suitor_. Stiles swallowed hard, did a spastic little dance of excitement, and walked past him to step into his own territory. Stiles set about rubbing the herbs over the spitted rabbit. He began to turn it, rubbing the heated fat more so that the herbs took. He stuffed the mangled leaves into its cavity to let them cook through and continued to turn the spit while giving the attractive alpha shy glances.

“Um…” Stiles cleared his throat, “Thanks for waiting. Just… just a bit longer.”

Derek nodded. Omegas didn’t step into territory until they were accepting a chase and if an alpha were in the middle of cooking or setting up a shelter than they usually waited just outside to see if the alpha were worth their time. If they could provide for the omega than they’d step inside to inspect the shelter or eat the food being offered. It was a way to allow for consent while still utilizing the intensity of the historical chase. Stiles was so used to being on the other side, sniffing at the food and studying the shelter, picking up the alpha’s scent to see if it were appealing, that he’d not immediately recognized that Derek was performing the opposite ritual. Then again, Stiles hadn’t really found an Alpha attractive since Scott, so there wasn’t much looking he’d done past the initial sniff and reject.

Stiles finished cooking the food and flailed a bit. He had no plates. No large leaves. Nothing too offer his food _on_. He’d planned on eating the whole rabbit himself since they weren’t exactly huge, but now he had a suitor to offer it to. Stiles stared at it awkwardly and then just ripped off a leg for himself and held out the entire rest of the rabbit to Derek on a stick. Derek accepted it and sniffed the offering, studying it as if he were judging it for a competition. He pulled off a strip of tender meat, catching a few pieces that nearly fell off, and popped them into his mouth. Derek nodded in approval but didn’t smile as Stiles chewed on his lip anxiously. He’d rarely met an alpha that actually smelled appealing to him but Derek, as noted when he’d rescued him before, smelled as delicious as he looked. Stiles was slightly panicked about that. He had an alpha courting him who was an _actual option_. He might not know him, but he did know that he valued Stiles’ life and was considering his feelings. The alpha had even offered him an out if he didn’t accept.

Stiles quickly devoured his little rabbit leg, not even tasting it as Derek offered him pieces of what he didn’t want. Stiles just kept staring at him, admiring his form and wondering why he was bothering with a skinny spaz like Stiles. Stiles stood up when the rabbit was nicely decimated and waited. It was still Derek’s choice if he wanted to step into the territory and Stiles was supposed to repeat his invitation but he was tongue tied for the first time in his life. He gestured awkwardly and Derek gave his tent a look before stepping over the fence.

Stiles squeaked.

There was no way around it. It was a completely unmanly, awkward squeak of excitement, far more worthy of a child seeing Santa than a young man courting a mate. Derek’s perfect façade of stony masculine angst was broken for a second as his mouth twitched and he snorted at Stiles’ excitement. Stiles flapped his hands pathetically and then launched himself at the alpha who leaped his fence and leveled Stiles with a challenging grin.

“Catch me if you can,” Derek taunted, voice smoldering with lust.

Stiles tripped over the fence and Derek laughed at him as he took off through the woods. The awkward omega wasn’t daunted. He scrambled up and took off after the alpha as he ran through the woods on powerful legs. Stiles was quick on his feet despite his clumsiness so he expected the chase wouldn’t last long. He could catch an alpha in a heartbeat and only shitty cultural stigma had kept him from playing sports. Derek couldn’t know that Stiles was a racehorse in disguise so he took it easy on Stiles until he realized the omega was gaining on him rapidly. There was a moment where Derek swung on a thin tree to make a sharp turn and their eyes met. Derek’s eyes were glowing red and he was grinning viciously, his invitation gone from casual to intentional. This was no longer a mercy mating. Stiles’ ability and determination had effectively turned Derek on and he could smell the man’s desire. Stiles’ stomach clenched and fluttered and he staggered before kicking out on the same tree to follow him. The moment passed and Derek was off again, this time running full tilt. Stiles whooped and put on a burst of speed. He passed a _very_ confused alpha’s territory but didn’t comment as he continued his pursuit of a man he was realizing _just might be his mate_.

Derek leaped a log, skirted a hooting alpha’s territory, and shot up a tree while Stiles slid to a halt and scowled up at him. The alpha grinned down at him.

“You’re not supposed to tree yourself!” Stiles panted.

“Instinct,” He replied, “It was that or turn around and fight. Alphas aren’t supposed to do this.”

“You keep saying that,” Stiles shook an accusing finger at him, “But you’re participating.”

“Do I get an award?” He taunted.

Stiles considered a moment. This had been fun. It had been a learning experience. It had also been less fulfilling than Stiles had expected it to be. Derek was probably expecting him to flirt back or demand Derek submit, but he didn’t want to do either.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “You know what? I think I made my point. Your turn to chase.”

Stiles turned and bolted back towards his territory, much as an omega would lead an alpha that was chasing him on a loop to end up back where they’d started. Derek’s instincts kicked in instantly and he howled out his intent to claim. A thrill shot through Stiles that centered deep in his gut, desire and fear warring as the chase commenced in sincerity. Derek hit the ground hard when he jumped from the tree and Stiles echoed his howl with one of acceptance as he fled through the woods. They’d passed two alpha territories on their way and the younger men were edging out curiously at their odd display. Stiles avoided the first he passed easily but the alpha in the second had gotten smart and pissed a quick line in the forest floor that Stiles didn’t catch until he’d already passed it. He cursed and swerved to avoid the first grab at his torso. He’d effectively stepped into another territory, accepting another contestant, but like most alphas this one stank to Stiles. He smelled of sour sweat and corn chips. Panic hit Stiles. He’d been chased before by alphas he couldn’t stand the thought of touching him but they’d never gotten this close to him, and he wanted _Derek_ to catch him so he had to stay attainable rather than run full tilt.

He didn’t have to worry for long. Stiles repeated Derek’s sharp turn on the tree and the second alpha chasing him tried it out as well. Derek appeared out of fucking _nowhere_ and clothes lined him, knocking him flat on his ass. The alpha was winded and Stiles staggered to a stop to see what would happen next. Derek put his foot on the young man’s shoulder and gave it a nudge.

“Stay down,” Derek ordered, flashing his reds before looking up at Stiles and raising an eyebrow. The alpha on the ground was human. He didn’t stand a chance in a fight with Derek.

Stiles took off again towards his territory, which he was quickly beginning to think of as _their_ territory. Derek was hot on his tail, so close that he could have easily caught Stiles. The alpha held off until they were nearly at their territory and then tackled Stiles straight to the ground. Stiles yelped but the alpha rolled them, keeping him from scraping along the ground. A moment later Stiles was being pushed onto his back and pinned by Derek’s sizable bulk. There was a bit of flailing and the man pulled on Stiles’ hair to turn his head sharply.

“Mine,” Derek growled deeply, and flew down to bite his shoulder.

Stiles yelped at the sudden, sharp pain, but Derek was pulling it out of him just as quickly. His mouth moved up Stiles’ neck, sending electric lust through his body as the alpha went from claiming to seduction. His stubble scratched his ear and Stiles gasped.

“Oh my gods,” Stiles panted, “This is happening.”

Derek growled deeply, his tongue moving along Stiles’ ear and making him arch wantonly. Like all omegas Stiles was a virgin, completely untouched by any but his own hand. He was suddenly panicked about the idiotic faces he’d make, but Derek wasn’t unaware of his surge of discomfort and pushed up on one arm to give Stiles a level stare.

“We’re not fucking here,” Derek told him, though he looked more than a bit breathless and ready to go right in the bracken.

“Oh,” Stiles panted, “Okay. Sure. I mean, I don’t know you and you don’t know me…”

“Oh, we’re fucking soon,” Derek pushed himself up on his knees completely, “When you’re ready.”

“Oh, good,” Stiles sat up, “I’m _definitely_ into not having the V-card forever.”

Derek shook his head and motioned towards Stiles’ territory, which they had almost made it back to during their run. Derek put out his hand and helped Stiles up, leading him back with a hand on the small of his back. Stiles’ stomach fluttered in excitement. His head was still reeling. Derek was a virtual stranger but he’d also put himself out there for Stiles in ways that no one ever had. He was hot as hell, smelled good, and apparently wanted Stiles as his mate. A part of him worried that he’d turn mean like Rafe had, but mostly he was just excited to have an _option_.

Derek crawled straight into Stiles’ tent and Stiles hesitated in confusion and then followed. Derek wasn’t curling up in his sleeping bag to sleep, though. Instead he was lying on top of it and undoing his jeans. Stiles’ mouth went dry at the sight of his hard cock outlined in tight fabric, but he wasn’t just giving himself room for his turgid member. Nope. He was _stripping._ Stiles’ jaw went slack as Derek slid his pants down to his knees and put one hand behind his head. He took his dick in hand and began to stroke it firmly, all business as he eyed Stiles up.

Stiles cleared his throat, “I can… you don’t have to… I’m not going to, like, leave you hanging…”

“This is part of triggering your heat,” Derek replied breathlessly. He was wasting no time, working himself with a clear goal in mind. He moved his hand from behind his head and reached out to rub his hand over Stiles’ thigh. The omega leaned forward and let him explore, cupping Stiles’ balls and giving them a little fondle that had Stiles’ cock twitching.

“What do I do?” Stiles asked breathlessly, “They never told me and there’s like _nothing_ on the internet, believe me I looked.”

“Just… lean over me,” Derek breathed, “Let me smell you.”

Stiles leaned forward to hover near Derek’s face and the alpha’s hand slid around his torso to stroke his hip, back, and then grip his ass. Stiles gasped and arched, pushing back instinctively. He felt the cramping sensation in his gut that meant his body was switching over from elimination to impregnation, the muscles inside of him switching tunnels. Stiles was getting wet within seconds and from the appreciative groan from Derek the alpha could smell it. He licked up Stiles’ neck and moaned before falling back again and grunting through his release. His eyes fluttered but stayed open and Stiles met them, staring in shock at his blown pupils and parted lips.

“Oh wow,” Stiles breathed.

Derek’s free hand caught his hair and pulled him down into a possessive kiss. When their lips parted Stiles’ stunned mouth was slack and Derek’s come-drenched hand moved up to press two fingers into his mouth.

“Swallow,” He ordered when Stiles tried to pull back only to encounter the fist holding his hair.

Stiles grimaced but swallowed the salty substance. It felt thick and almost grainy on his tongue but it wasn’t bad enough to make him gag. Derek looked down at his belly and ran his fingers through his spunk once more, moving to his ass this time to slide his slippery digits along his rim. He teased Stiles’ sensitive flesh while the Omega’s brain went haywire as his flesh lit up from the unfamiliar touch. When Stiles’ body relaxed enough Derek’s finger slid inside. He fingered him with one digit while Stiles moaned in shock at the pleasure pumping through his body. Derek slid a second finger in the moment Stiles’ began to push back for more and the omega gasped as his body opened up for him.

“Now?” Stiles asked, his voice cracking with desire.

“No,” Derek replied, but contradicted himself by pushing his fingers in as deep as they’d go. His digits pressed against something in Stiles that made him see stars and had his dick twitching.

“Prostate!” Stiles gasped.

“I noticed,” Derek snorted, and gave it another push.

Stiles came. There was no way to avoid it and he couldn’t even focus on holding back while the man was stroking his p-spot so perfectly. He let out a choked cry of pleasure and painted Derek’s torso while Derek held him steady by his grip on his hair as Stiles’ hips went wild.

“Oh gods,” Stiles gasped, “Did I break it?”

Derek raised one thick eyebrow in question and Stiles took a few more breaths as Derek’s fingers slid free and he let Stiles sit back. The omega shifted uncomfortably as his entrance grasped on air.

“Oh, that’s weird,” Stiles whined, “Did I do something wrong? Am I still going to go on heat?”

“Yeah,” Derek snorted.

“I came.”

“I noticed,” Derek ran his clean finger through their combined fluids and licked them off with a smirk on his face, “It will take an hour or so.”

“So is this how it’s always done?” Stiles asked, “You let my body know there’s a nice fertile male around and my body is all ‘hell yesh!’ and then I go on heat and we do the nasty?”

Derek rolled his eyes, “No, from here on out you’ll go on heat on your own, usually about once a year.”

“That’s so cool,” Stiles grinned, “So, I know you don’t do runs so you should know that they totally pump us full of birth control before we come out here just in case anyone’s not ready to make babies right away. Not sure if they do that everywhere, or what.”

Derek nodded, looking disinterested. He was running his fingers down along Stiles’ torso, tracing his moles before detouring to one nipple and swirling it around. Stiles hissed and shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to lie down across Derek’s torso but he was covered in their leavings.

“I have a sweater we can use to clean up,” Stiles suggested.

Derek nodded and Stiles wiped him down gently while admiring his pecks and six pack. Stiles shyly touched Derek’s nipple once he’d wiped him down and Derek smiled in approval. Stiles steeled himself and threw a leg over Derek’s torso to straddle his hips. Derek’s eyebrows went up in appreciation and he placed both hands on Stiles’ hips. Stiles grinned as the alpha gripped him for a moment and gave Stiles’ hips a bit of a shove to see how he would move over him. Stiles giggled and planted his hands on Derek’s pecks, humming in approval as they tested each other out.

“This is so cool,” Stiles breathed, “I can’t believe I scored an alpha like you. You’re _gorgeous_.”

“Mm,” Derek replied noncommittally, “Do you drive?”

“Um, yeah,” Stiles blinked in surprise, “I have a jeep.”

Derek nodded and then stretched; nearly dislodging Stiles from his hips, “Go to sleep.”

“Sleep? Really?” Stiles asked, “Shouldn’t we be getting to know each other? We’re mated!”

“We’ll be fucking like rabbits for three days,” Derek scoffed, “Trust me. Sleep now.”

Derek rolled onto his side, giving Stiles room on the sleeping bag if he also lay on his side. Orgasm had made Stiles a bit soporific so he wasn’t opposed to a nap, but he had a thousand questions he wanted to ask.

“You sound like you’ve been with an omega through heat,” Stiles asked as Derek closed his pretty eyes, “Am I your second spouse? Is that why you weren’t running?”

“No,” Derek replied.

“Do you live here?”

“Go to sleep.”

“I’m just trying to-“

“ _Later_ … er…” Derek’s eyes opened and he scowled at Stiles as if he’d offended him, “I don’t know your name.”

Stiles burst out laughing and Derek tried to hide his pout, but a sharp pinch to Stiles’ arm got him to sober up and spit out his name. He didn’t get the usual surprise about his name, instead the alpha just nodded and reiterated his order that Stiles sleep.

“I can’t,” Stiles insisted, “Seriously, I can’t. Where do you live?”

Derek sighed, “I travel.”

“Oh,” Stiles blinked, “But you have a _house_ -”

“No.”

“Oh, so… where will I live? What about college? Or a job?”

Derek closed his eyes, “Too many questions.”

“Oh,” Stiles replied, deflating a bit, “Will I be… like… your co-worker?”

Derek mumbled, “Just… sleep.”

Stiles’ enthusiasm was gone. He watched Derek as he slept and while the man was just as beautiful he was no longer the escape Stiles had expected. Reality was hitting. He might not have the freedom he’d thought marriage would give him. If he were moving constantly he couldn’t exactly attend a college or hold down a job unless it was as Derek’s assistant. He hadn’t gained anything. He’d just switched owners. He’d gone from depressed, drunken father in a big house to a mate with no house and bonus sex.

Stiles lay watching Derek sleep and wondering what he’d gotten himself into. Derek _did_ seem to care about Stiles, or at least about people in general, so it was possible they’d fall in love in time. He might be wonderful. Maybe after some time on the road he’d have time to make plans to actually care for his mate, which would lead to a home, school, job, and maybe even babies someday. Surely he wouldn’t want to get pups on Stiles in the cab of a semi or a gypsy wagon! What even did he _travel_ in? Stiles fantasized about living like a gypsy, humming songs to himself for a bit.

Eventually exhaustion won out and Stiles drifted off only to wake up on fire. His body was burning hot, sweat beading up in a frantic attempt to cool him down, and his dick was painfully hard. His ass was ready for breeding and for the first time Stiles knew what that phrase meant. He wasn’t just wet, he was gaping; his hole open and flexing as he rolled onto his belly and let out a choked cry. The urge to lift his hips and present himself overwhelmed him and Derek pushed onto his knees in time to see Stiles reaching back and spreading his cheeks.

“P-please,” Stiles whimpered.

“I’ve got you, Stiles,” Derek’s voice was ragged with lust as he knelt behind him and gripped the flesh Stiles was holding for him.

Stiles held his breath as Derek sank into him, his thick cock filling and stretching him wide. It burned a bit, but nothing like the fire that was every inch of his skin. Derek’s hips hit Stiles’ ass and his hands moved up his body, soothing the flame that left him dripping with sweat. Derek’s hands slid back down to his waist, gripped his hips, and slowly slid back out. Stiles whined for him to return and was granted that relief, but it seemed Derek didn’t get the memo because he slid free again.

“Please,” Stiles gasped.

“It’s okay,” Derek panted, “My knot will stop it. Just… let me get there.”

Derek’s hips began to move faster as Stiles relaxed and began letting him manipulate his body. Derek’s thrusts hit that sensitive bundle in his core with most thrusts, leaving Stiles gasping for air and clawing at the bedding. Derek growled and Stiles tilted his head to show off his neck, driving Derek wild. He began to fuck into him harder, balls slapping and breath speeding up. Stiles whined and his soft, needy sounds had Derek’s knot swelling nearly as much as the slick glide against his dick. Stiles could feel the bulb at the base of his dick start to catch at his rim.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped, “Oh my gods, I need it!”

“You’re so fucking wet,” Derek growled, gripping his ass cheeks tightly enough to bruise, “Fucking hell, this is so much better than…”

What Stiles’ ass was an improvement on Stiles didn’t find out. Derek’s knot popped and he gripped Stiles’ shoulders so he could thrust deeply into his body with a deep grunt. Stiles howled, his voice high and impassioned, and Derek echoed him with a deep and possessive roar. The alpha’s knot came with his orgasm, so he was lost to pleasure as he rolled his hips to stimulate his continuing release. Every movement rubbed Stiles’ prostate just right and had him keening in bliss. Derek’s come increased the pressure until there was a constant press and rub against his sensitive organ. Derek’s hand hurried down to grasp his prick and Stiles rolled into not one but two orgasms in a row. He sobbed out his climax and whimpered though the next, claws digging into the soil right through the sleeping bag. Derek draped himself across Stiles’ body, mouthing at the mark he’d left on his shoulder before working his way back up to Stiles’ ear as he had when he’d claimed him.

“My mate,” Derek’s hot breath teased Stiles’ ear, “My beautiful mate.”

“T-tied to me,” Stiles gasped, grinding his hips back, “Filling me up.”

Stiles’ hand touched his abdomen in wonder as Derek continued to pulse into him. When their bodies began to settle Derek rolled them sideways, still shivering in pleasure as he held Stiles tightly against his chiseled chest. Stiles reached a hand back and grasped at his tight ass, prompting Derek to roll into him again.

“Fuck,” Derek grunted, shivering as he pumped more seed into Stiles’ receptive body.

“Oh gods, you will get me _so pregnant_ someday,” Stiles gasped.

“Fucking hell,” Derek grunted, hip jerking forward again, “Stop talking. I’ll never come down.”

Stiles’ mouth twitched, “You like the idea of me full of the proof of your virility?”

“Oh gods, stop talking,” Derek panted.

“It’s going to drip out of me when your knot goes down,” Stiles growled.

“At which point I will rip out your throat… _with my teeth!_ ” Derek growled, hips jerking helplessly, “Fucking hell, I can’t breathe!”

Stiles started tugging on himself as Derek let out a choked cry behind him. In a moment Stiles was shivering through another mindblowing orgasm. He was out of come, his cock simply twitching in his grip. He worked the tip with a low moan while Derek gave his shoulder a revenge nip that didn’t hurt nearly as much as it stimulated. Finally they both sagged, collapsing on the shredded bedding and gasping for breath. One of Derek’s legs was between Stiles’ and the alpha was running his hand over Stiles’ body almost reverently.

“Just… don’t beat me, okay?” Stiles whispered.

Derek stiffened behind him, but not in the good way and Stiles winced.

“I’m not going to beat you,” Derek said softly, touching Stiles’ cheek gently.

“Kay,” Stiles sighed, and this time he fell asleep first.


	3. Chapter 3

Two days of sex wasn’t nearly as appealing as Stiles had thought it would be, and after that first round they were so exhausted that the only activities when they weren’t tied together or fucking was drinking and pissing. They didn’t even try to eat. There wasn’t time or energy. Stiles started in on an energy bar at one point only to drop it after a single bite because he was in dire need of the D. Finally it passed and Stiles woke up after having slept for so long that he couldn’t feel his left arm or leg.

“Oh gods,” Stiles moaned, “I’m never having sex without a mattress again. Whose fucking idea was this? Chase us through the woods? Why can’t we meet and date like betas?”

“Stupid,” Derek agreed, then slowly slid out of Stiles’ sore ass while the omega choked on his pain.

“I hate everything,” Stiles whined.

Derek grunted an agreement and rolled onto his back to let out a groan of anguish.

“From best pleasure ever to worst pain,” Stiles whined.

Derek grunted in agreement and Stiles smiled, “You sort of shut down when you come?”

“Coffee,” Derek groaned.

“Aww,” Stiles smiled softly, “You’re a caffeine addict. See, I need to know that. It’s important for married couples to take care of each other.”

Derek nodded and then started sitting up slowly. Stiles made an attempt and flopped back down. Derek turned slightly and touched his cheek with one gentle finger, tracing his moles in a triangle twice before moving away to stretch. He had to shift his way out of Stiles’ little shelter so he could put his arms out and really get the kinks out of his shoulders. Stiles stayed on the ground but eventually Derek stood, stretched, and then pulled him out by dragging the sleeping bag he was lying on. Stiles blinked at the sunlight and stretched weakly.

“Are you hurt?” Derek asked.

“I don’t think so,” Stiles replied, “Just gross and sore.”

“We should shower,” Derek decided.

“We’ll have to get a hotel,” Stiles frowned, “My dad’s been dying to be rid of me. I don’t think he’ll let me back for anything. All my stuff’s packed in boxes, he’s towing it behind his car.”

“This isn’t your first run,” Derek frowned.

“Please. I’m not _that_ young. He’s packed me up for _every single one_ ,” Stiles replied.

Derek frowned, “He’ll wait at the exit?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “He’s the sheriff so he has to be present until the last one exits.”

“Good,” Derek replied, “Pack up.”

Derek turned and started walking away and Stiles sat up in a panic. If Derek abandoned him he’d have nothing, not even his body to negotiate with.

“Where are you going?”

“Water,” Derek grunted.

“So we’re washing here?” Stiles whined, “I wanted a _shower_.”

Derek returned with Stiles’ folding plastic bladder, but instead of filling it fully he’d only filled it partway. He knelt down and held it out to Stiles.

“Drink up. Long walk.”

“Oh?” Stiles frowned, but took the water and drank it enthusiastically. He was parched.

“Eat,” Derek ordered again, handing him another bar. Stiles accepted it without complaint and downed it while Derek took in another. They shared the last of the water and than Derek helped him stand. Their bodies had healed, most soreness gone with time and their abilities, but walking wasn’t what Stiles had in mind.

The two walked towards the exit to the mating grounds. The runs happened four times a year in most parts of the country. During the rest of the year the preserve was open for hiking, camping, and all sorts of other activities. The area that everyone gathered in for the run was the pier’s parking lot and the run was around the tributaries that led out of the lake. The water rushed over rocks to provide the territories with fresh water. Stiles was expecting Derek to take him back to the pier where his father was parked, but after a few miles they took a different path towards the campgrounds. Stiles didn’t think they were open during the run, but he found he was mostly wrong. They passed two tents on their way to the camper section before approaching a gigantic black semi parked against the side of the general store across from the bathrooms.

“So… trucker,” Stiles stated plainly.

“Trucker,” Derek stated, and then gestured to the bathrooms, “Showers.”

“You treat me so right,” Stiles grinned, heading for them at a fast pace.

Derek followed after pulling out a shower caddy from his truck and they found a stall empty of all but spiders, which Derek shooed away with a few splashes of water. Stiles stepped inside and sighed in relief as the water poured over his exhausted body. Derek pulled his netted bag open and revealed spicy scented shower gel which he stroked over Stiles’ body. Stiles sighed and sank against him. Though they were more than sated he couldn’t believe the intensity of his attraction to Derek. He wanted to hold the alpha against his body, press his face to his chest, and fill his belly full of his need for the alpha. This was an omega’s downfall, he knew. The instinctive need to be with an alpha and the way his body craved them. Stiles was strong, he could stand on his own, but his hormones argued that sentiment false.

Derek’s lips brushed Stiles’, his now full beard tickling along Stiles’ jaw as drips of water ran down his neck. The alpha cradled the back of his head as if he were precious. It was an alpha’s instinct to find, keep, and mate an omega. The scent of one injured drove them to protect. Their arousal drove them mad with lust. What Stiles didn’t know was what the scent of satisfaction would do to them. Apparently it made them turn into big cuddly bears judging by how Derek held him against his burly chest.


	4. Chapter 4

It was another hour before they headed back to the main area, mostly because Stiles had to fully explore the truck’s cab before they could leave. Stiles had heard that truckers had beds in their cabs, but he’d never actually set foot in one. Now he was excitedly looking around. The front was obviously for driving and contained two surprisingly comfortable seats, and those seats swiveled around to face a tiny living area with a frankly ingenious set up. The bed took up most of the space, but above it were tiny cabinets and a clothing hammock full of winter gear. Cabinets framed the area around it, making the bed feel slightly separate. Two tray tables slid out from the cabinets at just the right height to eat at either of the swivel chairs. A tiny fridge hid under one of the tables and a microwave was above it, both secured behind a cabinet door so they wouldn’t escape when driving. Above the bed was a shelf with a pole to keep things secure. Dozens of tattered books filled the shelves but Stiles poked around them and found an outlet and an arm to hang a flatscreen TV.

“Where’d the TV go?”

“I threw it out,” Derek replied with a snort, “I don’t watch movies and we don’t exactly get cable.”

Stiles gave him a horrified look, “Tell me we have WiFi.”

“When we stop places,” Derek shrugged, “I use my tablet and café internet to check my shipping schedules.”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded, “So you read. A lot.”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded, “I read. Now let’s go get your things so-“

Derek paused. He’d apparently figured out the problem that Stiles had been musing for a while. Where to put his _stuff_.

“You’ll have to bring the important things,” Derek stated, pulling a clipboard from between the seat and the dividing console, “Clothes and such. I have a run to make in two days so we can’t hang out here. We’ll put some things in storage and come back for it in…”

Derek stopped talking, trailing off as he studied the clipboard. He flipped the pages and hummed to himself, scowling at his work load while Stiles drummed his fingers and stared around himself. Beneath the other tray table were drawers and Stiles pulled them out see what was inside. Lube and condoms. A shit-ton of lubes and condoms. Stiles shut it quickly, eyes wide, but not before seeing magazines underneath the sliding contents. The drawer beneath held socks and underwear. The cabinet above was large enough to hang things inside and held a few shirts and pants folded in half over hangers. There was actually room for his clothes if he were Spartan about what he brought. Stiles climbed about and checked the smaller cabinet above to find it surprisingly empty. The first above the microwave held disposable cups and utensils, napkins, and a reusable mug. Above that was an inexplicable stuffed wolf much like the ones his friends had owned as kids. Stiles was the only werewolf in the neighborhood besides Scott, who had been bitten by Derek’s uncle Peter. Peter had been unwell and he’d been locked up in Eichen house after biting Scott. Stiles, of course, had been born a werewolf, but his mother had left them when he was young. She’d been the only non-Hale werewolf in town, and shortly after her abandonment all the Hales had left besides Peter. It was being packless that had made him insane, according to the rumors.

“Why’d you guys leave town?” Stiles asked, picking up the wolf and resisting the urge to sniff it. His father hated it when he sniffed things.

Derek took the stuffed toy and shoved it back in the cabinet, slamming it shut and pressing the lock on the knob. Derek scowled at him and turned to the seats again, spinning them both to face front.

“Sit down and buckle up.”

“M’kay,” Stiles nodded, sitting down in the chair and following instructions, “So… don’t touch the wolf or don’t talk about the family or…”

“Both,” Derek stated firmly.

“Right. Maybe move the wolf up to the clothing hammock so I can put stuff in there?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Cool. Progress. I like progress.”

Derek turned the wheel and took them out onto the gravel road towards the exit of the campsite. He was scowling at it as if it had offended his family, although Stiles suspected that _he_ was the source of Derek’s frustration. Stiles huffed in irritation.

“Fine. I’ll start. I had a mom until I hit thirteen. That’s when I got my first menstrual cycle and they realized I was an omega instead of a beta like I was _supposed_ to be. Next thing I knew I had metal underwear and no mother. She ditched my dad and I because she was a beta and couldn’t understand why she should have to babysit a worthless omega. She was of the whole ‘omegas can’t be productive members of society’ train of thought, you know? So I figure I’m going to show the fuck out of her. I’m going to make something of myself. Go to college. Get a degree. Maybe go into politics. Of course, that all sort of hinges on _you_. You’re my alpha and I can’t do fuck all without your permission. So… do you want to talk family or future?”

Derek put the vehicle in park and shut off the lights before removing the key, “I want to get your stuff from this asshole father of yours.”

Stiles frowned, not realizing he’d given Derek _quite_ that negative of a view on his dad, but then again he had been pretty damn depressed when he’d met Derek. Talking about not being wanted probably hadn’t helped much. The alpha climbed out of the truck and Stiles fell out of the other side. Derek laughed at him, which would have annoyed Stiles if he hadn’t also walked around and put out a hand to help him up. He even brushed the clumsy omega off with a fond smile. Stiles was just starting to crack a joke to see if he could get another laugh out of him when a shout cut the air.

“Damn it, Stiles!” John’s voice rang out, “Can’t you do _anything_ right?”

Stiles winced and turned towards his father and the cruiser with all his worldly possessions sitting on a hitch on the back. When his mother had still been around they’d used that hitch to pack up for camping and fishing trips. They’d been happy once, before Stiles had emerged as an omega. Stiles unconsciously leaned into Derek’s side, wanting that happiness back and hoping the alpha could give it to him.

“I’m sorry sir, he…” John paused, narrowed his eyes at Derek and then put a hand on his gun, “What the hell are you doing back here?”

“Visiting my sister’s grave,” Derek replied sharply, “You catch her killer yet?”

“That a confession?” John asked.

Derek huffed aggressively and put an arm around Stiles, “I’m just here to collect my mate’s things. We’ll be gone in an hour.”

“Your… _mate_?” John’s eyes slid towards Stiles, “You have _got_ to be kidding me. Stiles, tell me this psycho just picked you up wandering the highway like a fool after getting lost in the woods you grew up in… _again_.”

Derek’s nostrils were flared, his eyes narrowed, and his claws were digging into Stiles’ borrowed sweater. Stiles glanced between them anxiously and then took a steadying breath. Whatever this was it was about to get ugly if he didn’t diffuse it.

“My stuff, dad. I need my stuff. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“ _Dad?”_ Derek’s eyes shot to Stiles, “You’re joking. The _sheriff?_ ”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “You were the one who wanted to _sleep_ instead of talk. I did offer you my life story, like, _multiple times_.”

“Fair enough. Get your shit,” Derek gave John a hard look and nodded to him as he guided Stiles passed him, “Sherriff.”

Derek took Stiles to the hitch behind the cruiser and pulled off the tarp to begin unloading it. His father made him pack up three plastic totes containing all his worldly possessions every three months to do the run, but a few essentials were in a pair of suitcases in the back seat so they didn’t get wet in case it rained. Upon glancing around Stiles realized they were the last to arrive and only a few other cruisers were around. Empty cruisers.

“They looking for someone?” Stiles asked in concern.

“Yeah. _You_ ,” His father snapped, “It’s been four days, Stiles!”

Stiles shrugged. He hadn’t realized it had been that long, but four days wasn’t a big deal. If mates didn’t find each other until the last day they could be gone for five or six. Three was really just the minimum to stay out there. The fact everyone else had made it back before him was unusual in that Stiles was usually hovering on the edge of the woods just waiting for the run to be officially over. It wasn’t required that he be there at a set time, just unexpected that he hadn’t turned up mateless, hungry, dehydrated, and cranky. Or been found by a passing motorist like that _one time_ , which totally wasn’t a big deal.

“Well, I was with my husband,” Stiles stated pointedly.

John was turning purple. He clearly was _not_ thrilled at the outcome and Stiles was amused that his father’s desperation to get rid of him had resulted in a mate that the man didn’t approve of. He supposed if he were younger and more immature he’d be gloating, but it was causing him a bit of worry. His dad was a cop. If he were worried than maybe Stiles should worry, too. However, while Derek had been surly and sharp with him he’d not harmed him and had promised he wouldn’t.

Derek cleared his throat and Stiles shook himself out of his thoughts to see Derek had unloaded all the totes and lined them up beside the truck. He was holding some elastic ties in his hands and clearly contemplating lashing his things onto the truck’s hitch but the scowl on his face implied he hadn’t expected Stiles to have _quite_ so much. Stiles pulled his suitcases out of the cruiser’s cab and took them to the front, putting them on the floor behind his seat. Inside one were two video game consoles protected with piles of socks. Inside the other was his laptop and a third console protected with piles of underwear. He returned to find Derek scowling at the contents of one of the tubs.

“Figure this out,” Derek waved at them, and then went to lean against the side of the truck with his arms folded.

It wouldn’t all fit. Of course it wouldn’t. Stiles had too much shit and Derek lived in a _truck._

“You could borrow the hitch,” John stated, voice strained, “Return it when you get your stuff home… Where exactly is home?”

“You’re looking at it,” Stiles waved at the camper, “Derek’s some sort of gypsy trucker guy.”

Derek snorted, “Don’t say that around the Romani. They’ll cut you.”

“You wouldn’t let them,” Stiles flirted.

“No,” Derek replied, a slow smile spreading across his lips, “I wouldn’t. Don’t do it anyway.”

“How will I get in touch with you?” John asked.

Stiles ignored him. He was busy trying to wade through all his things. Since he’d done this multiple times he’d found that it was easier to unpack again when he packed up in a specific order with the totes nice and labeled, so he had a clear solution in place already. Most of his clothes were in one. That he picked up and put at Derek’s feet. Another was all sports gear that he put at his father’s feet, but then he second-guessed it.

“Do you play sports?” Stiles asked Derek.

Derek frowned at him, “Sure.”

“I have sports gear. Do we need it?”

Derek shook his head, “The gyms have everything we’d need.”

“Gyms?”

“I stop at them when the weather is bad but I’m bored between jobs. Get some activity. Play a few rounds of basketball with the locals. Swim in the indoor pool in the winter. You should try karate. It’s good for improving your coordination.”

“Oh, cool,” Stiles’ eyebrows shot up, “I haven’t been allowed to do team stuff for ages.”

“I’d have let you if your school was big enough to have an omega team!” John snapped irritably.

Stiles ignored him. It was a bone of contention between them. Parents _could_ sign their kids into a sport with the aphas and betas if they were willing to pay an extra fee to have a married omega aid hover over them in the locker room and showers. John hadn’t agreed to do that and Stiles had been regulated to playing sports alone in his back yard or with Scott. He hadn’t been good at making friends.

“Well,” Stiles indicated the tote at his father’s feet, “I guess I don’t need this, then. Dad, would you do me one last favor?”

“ _Last_ favor?” John asked sharply.

“Come on, for old time’s sake? Can you sell some of my things and send me the money? I’ll figure out how later. Maybe Western Union or something.”

Stiles looked up at his father to see him grimacing at Stiles, pain in his eyes and frustration twisting up his lips. Stiles frowned in confusion at his distress, not sure what was causing it or why he was so upset at selling something.

“Did you want these?” Stiles asked, gesturing to the lacrosse and soccer gear.

“No,” John replied, shaking his head, “No, I’ll sell them for you.”

“Great. Thanks. Did you want the money?”

“No. It’s… they were gifts. The money is yours.”

“Okay, then the video game, gear. Derek, darling, I know you’re reticent about talk of any kind, but I really do need to know if I can play a game system in your truck. Can we maybe use the money my dad sends me to buy a TV?”

“Our,” Derek stated flatly, “Our truck. I own it and now you’re my mate.”

Stiles smiled up at him, “Our truck. Sure. I like that. Okay, so _can I_?”

Derek sighed in disgust, rolling his eyes at Stiles’ whining and headed over to peer inside the cab of his truck as if he didn’t already know it’s layout blind. Derek unzipped the suitcases Stiles indicated and poked through it, picking each one up and studying it with a frown, apparently unsure what they were. He looked at the plugs on them and glanced at his truck.

“I can get us a solar panel to make more power,” Derek replied, “And a TV. This will stop you being bored?”

“You are _awesome_ ,” Stiles bounced lightly, “I barely play the 360, I’ll get rid of that one.”

Stiles put the Xbox and the accompanying games into the tote with his sports gear and moved to the totes again. This one had mostly books and his photo albums in it. He smiled at the books and moved them towards the doorway as well. Derek appreciated books. He’d enjoy having Stiles’ books with them as well. He wouldn’t give up his photo album for anything, so he definitely was keeping that with him. They’d find a spot.

“Okay. Now I just have to get myself organized. I think most of these clothes can go to charity unless we’ll be driving for longer than a few days at a time?”

“We’ll stop when you need to,” Derek stated, “There are days off. I use Laundromats.”

“Okay, then I’ll just pick out my favorite clothes.”

“I’ll clear out a spot in the truck for you,” Derek suggested, “The rest gets donated or put in storage. Your call. Say goodbye to your… _father_.”

Derek picked up the tote full of books and headed inside while Stiles rifled through his clothes. He picked out four shirts he loved, agonized over a few others, chose two sets of jeans, two pairs of sweatpants, his favorite red hoodie, a jacket, and his winter gear. Stiles pushed the rest towards his father’s pile and carried those he was keeping into the truck. Derek helped him enter when he nearly fell backwards back out of it. Stiles leaned in and saw that Derek had quickly cleared him some space. He shoved the winter gear above the bed in the hammock and began organizing his clothes. Derek had already started putting his books on the shelves but stopped when John peered inside the truck cab.

“No warrant,” Derek growled at John, flashing red eyes when he hesitated in the doorway.

“My son’s in there!”

“ _No warrant_.”

“No justice, no peace!” Stiles quipped, “Seriously, though. He’s my dad and I’ve already been _all_ through this truck. Nothing in here is illegal.”

Derek gave Stiles a hesitant look and then turned away, “No warrant. No entrance.”

“I just want to see how my son’s going to be living, you ass!” John snapped angrily.

“You’ve got eyes,” Derek replied.

“All I can see from here is a bed!”

“Oh!” Stiles laughed, “Yeah, that’s about it, but there’s a fridge and a microwave under here!”

Stiles skipped over to show him, but Derek growled at him to get his shit put away so Stiles hurried back to fumbling with the hangers. He finished packing up the systems and games into the cleared out cubby above the closet. Derek pulled a few totes out from beneath the bed and indicated one that was full of shoes and boots. Stiles added his to the pile since he had been barefoot so far. The other tote contained more fucking books. Derek frowned at them and began to lay some of Stiles’ books flat on top. Stiles chuckled at his efforts and began stuffing his socks and underwear into the cubby that had formerly housed Derek’s stuffed wolf. He didn’t see where it had gone and it didn’t appear to be in the winter gear hammock. His laptop joined his underthings and he shut it with a click before turning to smile at where Derek had managed to cram the last of Stiles’ things away.

Stiles grinned at his success before taking the now empty suitcases and handing them to his father in the doorway.

“You like politics?” Derek asked, holding up his Poly Sci book.

“Yeah,” Stiles glanced up, “I’m looking to change Omega’s rights.”

Derek didn’t reply and Stiles kept his pace fast. He wanted out of his father’s judgmental gaze but first he wanted to hug him goodbye. He was still his _dad_ , and Stiles doubted he’d ever see him again. Stiles stepped out of the truck and rubbed at his arm awkwardly.

“Um…” Stiles started.

“Stiles,” John tried, “I need a word with you.”

“Busy,” Stiles replied, “Got places to go. Derek’s got a job. I’m gonna be his co-pilot or something. You know, like Flight of the Navigator? I’ll hold the maps or something. Maybe he’ll help me get my license. It’s a CDL, right?”

“Sure, but…” John tried.

“Stiles!” Derek barked, “Let’s go!”

Stiles darted forward and hugged his father tightly before pulling away, but the man grabbed his arm and held him back.

“Stiles… don’t do this. He’s no good. The man’s knee deep in his sister’s death, rolling in insurance money, but living rough? Something’s wrong with him, I just know it but I can’t get anything to stick.”

Stiles frowned, “If I find anything I’ll turn him in, but for now he’s been good to me and he’s my _husband_.”

“Sex doesn’t make him _good to you_. This is revenge on me investigating and I _know it_. He’s going to take you away from me,” John said softly, eyes suspiciously wet.

Stiles blinked in surprise and Derek turned the truck on again. He was pressuring Stiles to hurry up with his posture and loud rumbling engine. John was clenching and unclenching his now free hands, but he didn’t reach for Stiles again the way the young omega wanted him to. There was too much anger and resentment between them. Too many nights of cleaning up after one of John’s drunken rages. Too many years of being blamed for Stiles’ mother’s absence. Too long trying to find his own self-worth while his father taught him that it didn’t exist.

“I’m going to…” Stiles waved at the truck, “I’m going to have my own life now. This is what you wanted; for me to mate and leave your house. You’ve packed me up every run since I turned 18 and demanded I try harder and now I’ve found someone who actually wants me, who doesn’t smell like shit, and you’re going all weepy on me?”

“You’re my son,” He replied, voice cracking.

“Maybe you should have remembered that sooner,” Stiles replied miserably, looking away and starting to climb into the truck.

“I never forgot it!” John insisted, anger flashing in his eyes, “I wanted you to get your life started, Stiles! Not keep moping over Scott!”

“I wasn’t moping over Scott,” Stiles scoffed, pausing with his hand on the seat, “I got over that after a few months. It’s been _years_. I couldn’t find someone, apparently because my mate was traveling the damn country in a big black emo truck.”

“It’s not emo! It’s classic!” Derek snarled.

“Whatever!” Stiles shot back, “Still black and grey and sad all over!”

Derek growled and Stiles sighed, giving his dad a level glare, “Look, I’m going. I’ve got my future. It’s not what I wanted but it’s better than tiptoeing around your drunk ass and cleaning up after you. So from here on out, you’re your own responsibility. Try to eat right.”

“Oh, _I’m_ my responsibility?!” John laughed bitterly, “I’ve been taking care of you for-“

“Don’t you dare,” Stiles growled, “Keeping the key to my fucking chastity belt isn’t taking care of me. It’s fucking _not_ , and if you weren’t so hung up on a woman who couldn’t care less about us you’d know that. Guess what? I’m gone. Go get her back if you want her, but from here on out you don’t have me to blame for your failed social life. Key.”

“Key?” John blinked.

“My chastity belt’s key. I’ve got it with my clothes and I might still need it depending on where we’re at. I want the key.”

John hesitated and then pulled his key ring out, pulling Stiles key off a clip and handing it to him hesitantly, “It should go to Derek.”

“It should go to _me_ ,” Stiles replied sharply, “From here on out I’m not required to wear it. It’s _my choice_.”

“It’s _his_ choice.”

“Derek, you going to lock up my junk?” Stiles shouted over his shoulder, not unaware of the warning tone in his voice.

Derek scoffed loud enough to be heard over the engine, “Swallow it for all I care.”

John surrendered the key and Stiles stuffed it in his pocket, “Call me when you get that gear sold. Scott might want it but if not there’s a sport’s store in town that sometimes sells used gear. Try them. The Xbox can go to Gamestop for whatever they’ll give you. We’ll arrange to get me the money when you’re done. You want a percentage?”

“No.”

“Okay. Bye, then,” Stiles replied, climbing into the passenger seat and facing front as he quickly snapped his seatbelt on.

“Stiles!” John shouted, blocking it from closing, “Don’t do this! We can get it annulled. There are drugs you can take to remove the bond. You can come back. I won’t pressure you to run again.”

“You going to let me go to college? Sign off on me having a job? Going to Washington?” Stiles challenged, and Derek sucked in a breath beside him. He didn’t want Stiles to leave, and that partly resolved Stiles to stay with him no matter what John said.

“Is _he_?”

“He’s not going to make me hate myself and consider suicide as a way out,” Stiles replied sharply. Derek growled deeply and John gave him a furious glare.

“No way in hell,” John looked angry and hurt, “I didn’t do that to you. That’s not my fault.”

Derek began to move and John stepped back, finally allowing Stiles to pull the heavy door shut. Stiles blinked back a few tears, breathing through his nose and pressing his lips together tightly. They were angry tears, not sad ones. Not sad. _Angry_ , damn it.

“I love you, Stiles,” John sobbed.

Stiles’ hearing picked it up. As much as John had discouraged him from showing his werewolf traits the man had to know Stiles could hear him. Stiles gave him one last heartbroken glance through the window before he slid into his past.

“What about my grandkids?” John shouted suddenly, but it was too late. He couldn’t hear Stiles’ reply and the omega’s cellphone was in with his game systems. Stiles should get it. He should charge it. Call him. Call Scott, maybe. He hadn’t said goodbye, but then he hadn’t said hello in years so…

“You okay?” Derek grumbled uncomfortably. Stiles was vaguely aware that he was sloppy sobbing, and accepted the tissues Derek handed him to cover the snot and tears pouring down his face.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “I will be.”

Derek leaned sideways and popped the glove compartment in front of Stiles. Maps filled it to the brim and Derek gave them a vague wave.

“Pick.”

“Pick… what?” Stiles asked, “My nose?”

“A map. You want an education? We’re starting with navigation like you said. We’ll get you a CDL and you can pay your way through college. You’ll be independent, even of me. It’s what you want, right?”

Derek pointed to the road and Stiles looked up to see them getting on the main exit to the highway. They were leaving Beacon Hills. They’d be at the border in half an hour. They’d be gone in an hour or less. Stiles hadn’t left town for anything besides a mating run since he was in middle school.

“That was almost altruistic,” Stiles stated, “You serious? You’ll let me work and go to school?”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded.

“How?”

Derek cleared his throat and shifted, “I can get wifi. You can do online courses. We’ll figure out the rest later. Maybe… maybe visit some tourist sights, too. For educational purposes.”

Stiles dove for the maps and was soon covered in accordion papers with lines all over them. He was bouncing in his seat in excitement, looking over the covers of each map as he tried to fold them back up and select which he wanted. He was babbling the names of the states and various places he’d always wanted to go. He couldn’t see Derek wanting to go to Disney, but he imagined he’d love to go to the beach. Stiles hadn’t been to the ocean since he was in grade school and his mother had vacation time saved up. She had been a workaholic. Marti Gras. Miami. Florida. The Great Lakes. Stiles wanted to see them _all_ and he was practically hyperventilating when Derek cut in on his babble.

“The ocean is near our first stop,” Derek stated flatly.

“Okay. Yeah. Good idea. Start small,” Stiles bounced in his seat.

Derek smiled softly and Stiles grinned back at him, “What?”

“It’s nice.”

“What is?” Stiles wondered.

“Having someone who hasn’t seen this all yet.”

“You can’t possibly have seen _everything_ ,” Stiles scoffed.

“Not everything, but all the popular attractions,” Derek replied.

“Disney?” Stiles wondered.

“Both of them,” Derek replied smugly.

“How long have you been doing this?”

Derek cocked his head to one side, “Since fifteen so… years.”

Stiles was surprised a moment, “Did you even graduate?”

Derek nodded, “Homeschool. We’d stop at libraries and I’d do my work each day. I still stop at them.”

“No wonder you love to read,” Stiles nodded, “We’ll need money just to get me my CDL.”

Derek snorted, “Did you miss the part where your dad mentioned all the money I’m sitting on?”

Stiles gave him a shocked look, “It’s enough for college? Don’t you need it? What if we want a house someday?”

Derek shook his head, “By then you’ll be in Washington running the country so you can buy it for me.”

Derek gave Stiles a winning smile and the omega beamed from ear to ear.

“You know what? You got yourself a deal.”


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles lay stretched out on a blanket on the beach, hands beneath his head, sunning himself in absolute bliss. He had nothing on. Not a stitch. His bare white ass was exposed to the sun for the first time in his life and it was _bliss_. Derek had found him a _nude beach_ that allowed mated, accompanied omegas on it as well. Some beaches didn’t allow omegas at all, which was why his parents had stopped taking him even before his mother had up and left them. They were at San Onefre Beach at Gaviota State Park in Goleta, California, not far from Beacon Hills. It had been a three-hour drive but Derek hadn’t gotten them a campsite so Stiles assumed they weren’t staying long. He was going to suck up the sun while he could. After all, they had a load to pick up and Derek’s empty flatbed- collected at a truck stop where he’d paid to leave it for a time- was clearly making Derek irritated.

Derek had been wading in the water, which wasn’t far from the narrow beach. He returned to Stiles’ side and smirked down at him, picking up the lotion from the basket they’d brought down with them and smearing it across Stiles back and ass again.

“Hey, I’m trying to tan here!” Stiles whined.

“You’re going to _burn_ ,” Derek replied, “It’s low count. You’ll still tan. Idiot.”

“You just want to touch my ass,” Stiles whined.

“Roll over and I’ll touch the rest,” Derek huffed.

Stiles obeyed and Derek rubbed lotion into the rest of his body. There were only a few other couples close to them and they were given a scolding glance for touching each other. Even nude beaches had limitations. Stiles wasn’t worried. It wasn’t as if they were interested in sex this soon after mating. In fact, Derek was opting to wear a bathing suit because his dick was so raw from fucking Stiles that he didn’t want to have to put lotion on it. He’d healed already, but Stiles supposed there were some lingering memories of dick pain keeping him from fully enjoying the day on the beach.

“Next time we’ll go to Steamer Lane in Santa Cruz. It’s my favorite spot to surf. I’ll teach you.”

“You surf,” Stiles sat up, “You don’t have any gear.”

“I rent,” Derek shrugged, “It’s not a big deal.”

“ _You’re_ a big deal,” Stiles leaned forward and pecked his lips quickly, “This is amazing. Thank you.”

Derek shrugged, standing up again and looking awkward, “There’s only another hour left before this tiny ass beach is covered in water. Get into the surf while you still can.”

“I just got lotioned!”

Derek walked away without replying, returning to walking through the surf and staring balefully out at the water. Stiles was amused by his moping, but he seemed content to indulge his new mate. He stood up and wandered over to the water, standing as he watched the water flow over his feet. It was cold and he wiggled his toes as the sand was tugged out from beneath.

“This is so cool,” Stiles breathed, and looked up in time to see Derek smiling at him fondly. The alpha quickly turned his head away and Stiles grinned at catching him mooning over his omega mate.

Stiles headed for Derek with a mock growl, eyes narrowing as the alpha huffed in warning. Stiles refused to back down, stalking forward with blunt fingers curled like claws and a wicked grin on his face.

“Don’t you dare,” Derek growled, but his eyes flashed with excitement rather than threat.

Stiles launched himself at Derek, going for a tackle only to be tossed flat on his back in the water. The spray doused him and he came up spluttering and laughing. Derek caught him up again, tossing him over his shoulder and walking deeper into the water while Stiles laughed and struggled. Derek jumped a wave, waited on the next, and tossed Stiles bodily into it while they both laughed. Stiles flailed and surfaced, finding Derek close and reaching for him. The alpha wasn’t willing to let Stiles too far out of his reach. Stiles threw out his arms and Derek scooped him up and carried him back towards the shore, but he lowered him before they were completely out of the water. Stiles grinned as Derek stepped back and squared off, motioning for Stiles to come at him again.

They kept it up until the water threatened their little picnic but even then Stiles could tell Derek was reluctant to leave. He had enjoyed tussling with Stiles in the water and the omega had adored his attention and playfulness. Now they packed up and Derek bagged their sandy stuff in a garbage bag in the parking lot. They returned to the beach and rinsed off in the seaside shower with Derek grumbling about sand in awkward places.

Once they were both sand-free he joined Derek in the cab where the alpha was reading his clipboard.

“This is kinda cool,” Stiles grinned, sitting down without a stitch on, “Home is everywhere we go! I don’t have to get dressed when I don’t want to or anything!”

“The windows aren’t tinted,” Derek stated blandly.

Stiles blinked and turned his head to see the shocked gaze of a woman who had her hand over her child’s eyes. She wasn’t blocking her own though, and after a moment of gaping she gave him an appreciative smirk. Stiles stuck his tongue out at her. If she didn’t want a sight she shouldn’t be strolling through the parking lot of a nude beach!

That didn’t stop Stiles from blushing violently while Derek smothered a grin and turned a page. When the woman moved on Stiles fled to the bed area, pulled out some boxers, and covered himself enough to be decent. Derek’s lips were still twitching when Stiles returned to sit down and locate one of his books. He smiled at Derek and helped himself to the man’s glass of lemonade. Derek allowed it with a bored glare.

“So what next?” Stiles asked.

“It’s easier to drive at night. I’m going to pick up my load, park, and sleep for a few hours.”

“And then?”        

“And then I teach you how to read the logs and record books. Since you can’t drive and aren’t an employee I can’t utilize you yet for the haul logs, but you can still learn how they work. I have to take a certain amount of break by law, and some states have different views so I’ll quiz you on individual laws on the way.”

“Where are we heading?”

“Nevada. I take a lot of overnight hauls into the surrounding states.”

“Right, sure,” Stiles nodded, “So what are you fleeing from?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure,” Stiles replied, tone full of disbelief, “Because normal people don’t like staying in one place for long.”

“Not normal,” Derek acknowledged with a quirk of an eyebrow.

They drove for a good six hours after Derek’s brief nap, Stiles playing on his Playstation Vita or reading when his nausea passed. They’d had to stop at a convenience store to pick him up some medicine for motion sickness since Stiles wasn’t used to long trips. Once dawn approached Derek pulled over into the parking lot of a large chain hardware store and walked into the back with Stiles scampering in behind him. From there he pulled shut the curtains that separated the cab from the living quarters, dropped the curtains on all the side windows, stretched beautifully, turned on an AC in the roof, and flopped down into their bed.

Stiles danced from foot to foot, “How do you _not_ have to pee?”

“I pissed last time we stopped for you to piss.”

“That was four hours ago!” Stiles pointed out, “It’s been ages!”

“The store probably opens at nine. They might let you use their bathrooms. Otherwise I suggest you find a tree.”

“I… I can go out alone?”

“Don’t get raped,” Derek huffed, and rolled over to pull the blankets over himself.

Stiles stepped out anxiously and walked to the side of the building. He found a bush to duck behind relieved his tense bladder with a sigh of relief. When he got back inside Derek was passed out, snoring softly as he took up most of the bed. Stiles frowned at him and locked their doors before slipping into the bed and nudging him a bit. Derek rolled over and grabbed Stiles tightly, holding him against his body and nuzzling the back of his neck. Stiles had stayed in his boxers all night, enjoying the freedom of nudity and the breeze from the windows as they drove through the long night. He was chilled under the air conditioner, but a twitch of his feet pulled the blankets up into reach and he draped them over himself with a satisfied sigh. Derek smelled so good; his scent was of safety and spices and the lingering scent of the beach. He smelled of _home_. A new home and a fresh start. Stiles was fine with memorizing rules and regulations if it meant _freedom_ , and the warmth of his new packmate wrapped around him was an instant comfort. His father didn’t understand the need for pack that werewolves felt. Stiles was hungry despite the fast food Derek had gotten him earlier, but Derek was so tired that he suspected waking him was a terrible idea. He left him be, deciding he’d insist on a _big_ breakfast when they woke up.


	6. Chapter 6

Two nights later, just when they were establishing a routine with each other that mostly involved avoiding annoying each other, Stiles woke up to the sound of someone sobbing in their blackout-curtained home. Stiles shifted in confusion, unable to figure out who was there, how they’d gotten in, and why they were crying. Perhaps Derek had beaten the crap out of a thief and Stiles had slept through it?

“Wha?” Stiles struggled to sit up only to find arms holding him tightly.

It was _Derek_ who was weeping, arms wrapped tightly around him as tears drenched Stiles’ back. Stiles tried to turn but Derek’s grip tightened.

“Laura p-please,” Derek sobbed brokenly, “Please… don’t leave me alone…”

Stiles blinked back tears at the anguish in his voice. He sounded like a frightened child and he trembled as he curled against Stiles’ back. Stiles stroked his arm and shushed him gently, not sure what to do while held immobile.

“It’s okay, Derek,” Stiles whispered, “It’s okay, big guy. I’m here. It’s Stiles, okay? Hey. Wake up, sweetheart.”

“St-Stiles?” Derek woke up slowly, whimpering still and reaching up to touch Stiles’ face in the darkness.

“Yeah, I’m here, big guy. You okay?” Stiles asked as the older werewolf stroked his cheek.

“I’m… fuck.”

Derek shoved Stiles, knocking him onto the floor. Stiles groaned as knee and head suffered a collision. Derek scrambled over Stiles and made it to the exit in time to be fantastically sick out the passenger seat door. Stiles rubbed his head and knee until they stopped aching and then cautiously walked towards his husband.

“Derek?” Stiles asked in concern, “You okay?”

“Fine!” Derek barked.

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles replied sarcastically.

“Get me some milk.”

“Sure,” Stiles moved quickly, eager to do something to help. The ‘milk’ Derek referred to was powdered milk packets that he emptied into bottles of water and drank before bed each night. Stiles opened a bottle of water and chugged a few sips to make room before carefully pouring in the powder, putting the cap on, shaking it up, and handing it back to him with a disgusted wince. He wasn’t used to it yet.

“What did I say?” Derek demanded as he took the bottle from Stiles’ hand and chugged the entire thing.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about that?” Stiles offered.

“What? Did? I? Say?”

“You were asking for someone named Laura…” Stiles paused as Derek winced, “Asking her not to leave.”

Derek sighed heavily and edged around Stiles to poke around the pantry above the microwave. He glared at it for a good ten minutes while Stiles shifted from foot to foot before just giving up and rushing to the exit to piss. They were at a truck stop so there were bathrooms nearby and too much traffic to let him utilize a bush. Stiles hurried into the building, ducked into the women’s room that omegas generally used, peed as quickly as he could, and hurried back to his husband in record time. He hadn’t even bothered with shoes, just worn his flip flops from their day at the beach. Stiles returned to the truck to find it empty and locked. He swore and looked around himself before collecting his manhood and heading for the men’s room. Female alphas sometimes used them as well, but mostly alpha and beta men only entered these rooms. Stiles was immediately wolf-whistled and lost his courage.

“Derek?!” He called.

“Right here, idiot,” Derek huffed.

He was standing at the sink rubbing his face with a towel.

“The truck was locked,” Stiles told him when Derek gave him a furious glare.

“If you leave it unlocked the lot lizards will steal from you,” Derek told him as if this were obvious and not complete gibberish.

“What sort of fairy tale shit is that?” Stiles blinked, “And if you’d _waited_ , I’d have come back inside and you could have left me locked up safe and sound.”

“Omegas,” Derek sighed, rolling his eyes and splashing more water on his face.

“You should count your fingers.”

“What?” Derek blinked the water away and glared at him.

“If you’re worried about still being asleep than you should count your fingers. If you have ten you’re awake.”

Derek shook his head, “That’s stupid.”

“As stupid as your imaginary truck invading lizards? It’s true,” Stiles nodded, pressing his lips together in a firm smile, “Science. I’m going to hold the lizard thing over your head, by the way. When you’re properly awake you’re going to be super embarrassed.”

Derek huffed and reached into his bathroom caddy for the toothpaste, “I was single for years before you. I’m not ashamed and I’m not embarrassed.”

Stiles pretended not to notice him slowly tapping each finger against the counter to count them. Finally he finished rinsing with mouth wash and put his stuff away to turn to Stiles with a careful glance.

“I want to fuck,” Derek stated, “Will you have sex with me or should I find a lot lizard?”

“A wait with the what?” Stiles stammered, “There were too many variables in that sentence for me to process. Are you sleep walking? What do lizards have to do with anything? Why _wouldn’t_ I have sex with you? Why haven’t you touched me before now if you wanted me for more than company?”

“I’m awake. Lot lizards are truck stop prostitutes,” Derek stated flatly, “Usually discarded omegas-“

“Oh holy shit,” Stiles’ eyes widened, “I thought… isn’t that illegal? My dad talked about them being rescued and-“

“Just because you’re mated to me doesn’t mean you want sex,” Derek continued, answering his third question, “And I haven’t touched you because you constantly smell nervous and we never discussed having sex outside of heat.”

Stiles gestured around himself vaguely, “This is all new to me and I’m a bit generally freaked out, but I’m also just a nervous kind of guy. I’m fine. I’m horny, too. I mean, you smell that, right?”

“Yeah,” Derek snorted, “And all the self-love you indulged in. You should _really_ avoid wearing the same boxers after if you don’t want alphas and betas whistling at you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles nodded, “My dad’s a human so I’m not used to werewolf noses. You… you want me to not…?”

“I’m not going to stop you from jerking off,” Derek scoffed.

“Okay. So. We just… do this?” Stiles gestured to the shower since it was the nearest possible-sex-location-fantasty-style, “We just… do it? Like, will you make me go on heat again?”

“Fuck, no,” Derek shook his head, “You’ll go on heat naturally eventually, do you not want to have sex outside of heat?”

“Oh, no! I do! I want all the s ex. Like, if you need to sex me, than you can sex me. Like now. Like, _right_ now.”

Derek snorted and shook his head, “In the truck. You’ll get us thrown out.”

“Right,” Stiles agreed, tightening his arms around himself. He was regretting walking around in just sleep pants and a shirt. It was getting colder the further north they travelled.

They headed for the truck at a fast pace and Derek unlocked it to let Stiles in, palming his ass as he ‘helped’ him up. Derek climbed up after him, eyes smoldering with lust. He’d been sleeping on top of the blankets in sleep pants while Stiles slept beneath. Stiles had assumed it was a brush off to his obvious offer, but apparently despite Derek’s need to _never_ talk he wanted his consent verbally. Stiles was good with that. He never shut up and was very willing to tell Derek _exactly_ what he thought of his returned interest.

“Oh, yeah, you’ve got those bedroom eyes going on,” Stiles growled, “Bring it home, sexy. Drive into me like you drive this Semi… but with… you know… not a semi. A full hard-on. _Like a rock!_ ”

Stiles singing the Chevy commercial jingle was what finally irritated the alpha, who stopped in the middle of shoving his dirty clothes into the laundry bag to glare at the omega.

“Shut up, Stiles,” Derek growled, grabbing his ankle and dragging him down onto his back on the bed.

“Make up your _mind_ ,” Stiles whined.

Derek shoved Stiles onto his side and rolled him onto his back before climbing on top of him. Stiles’ arms slid around Derek’s shoulders and held him gently, stroking the hair at the back of his neck. He smiled at his surly mate fondly as Derek leaned over him. He pressed their lips together as he lay down fully on Stiles, his erection pressing into the slighter man’s hip with one leg between Stiles’. The omega moaned eagerly, rubbing his hips up as his need drove him to frot. Derek groaned and slid his tongue into his mouth, fucking him shallowly with the wet muscle as Derek pressed firmly down against him. Stiles scratched at his back and Derek growled eagerly. Their motions became more frantic and Stiles realized that he needed to get his own pants off before this all ended with them needing to do more laundry.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped as the alpha began to grunt every few thrusts, “Help me out here, buddy.”

Stiles pushed at Derek’s hips and tried to part his legs. Derek moaned and lifted his hips so Stiles could shove his sleep pants down and spread his thighs. He wrapped one hand around Derek’s thick shaft and guided him to where Stiles’ body was slick and aching for the alpha’s attention.

“Stiles,” Derek growled as the meaty head pressed inside.

Derek’s hips twitched back out but were forward again before Stiles could whimper in protest. He pushed and groaned, shifting Stiles’ hips up with strong hands until the omega was wrapped around him and gasping at the unfamiliar intrusion. The alpha worked his way in slowly, going deeper with each thrust while Stiles gasped and breathed around the stretch. He probably should have asked for a few fingers first, but he’d been so damn eager to have him that he hadn’t even considered it. After the third push Derek was deep inside Stiles’ body, his massive balls slapping his ass as he began to take him with long, deep motions. Derek’s thrusts became more heated with every second and Stiles felt his knot expanding already. If he’d been less experienced he might have been disappointed but as it was his body was begging for Derek to fill him.

“Oh, fuck, gimme, Derek. Gonna come so fucking hard,” Stiles gasped, his legs clenching him tightly as he begged for the alpha’s knot.

“Stiles,” Derek growled, gripping his ass in both hands and thrusting into him hard.

Derek’s knot caught on Stiles’ rim and one more good thrust had him deep in Stiles’ body. The thick bulb swelled further and Derek let out a choked cry. Stiles was hot for him, wriggling beneath Derek and clutching at his body hungrily. The alpha filled him just right, his knot pressing against the sensitive bundle in his body that made him scream for more. He was shouting his bliss to the heavens, letting it echo off of the walls, when Derek stiffened above him and let out a sharp cry. Stiles moaned as the alpha filled his body, pulsing inside of him and grinding his hips to prolong their pleasure. Stiles shook as he hovered on the edge but Derek refused to be distracted by his own release. He reached between them and gripped Stiles’ prick. His thumb moved over the head of Stiles’ throbbing length and the omega screamed in surrender to the bliss that sent shockwaves up his spine. Derek worked his dick until Stiles whimpered out a second, draining climax and went limp beneath him. Derek groaned deeply, his hips still twitching as his knot pulsed and more come filled Stiles’ channel.

“Oh gods,” Stiles whimpered, tossing his head from side to side as his body shook. He was overwhelmed but Derek was still moaning softly, “Fuck, Derek, so good! Yeah, come for me, alpha. Gonna fill me with your cubs, so big inside me.”

“Fuck, Stiles!” Derek shouted, muscles along his shoulders bunching as he gasped for breath.

“Ride it out, big guy,” Stiles growled, one hand moving to stroke his broad back as his other traced the tattoo on his shoulders.

“Take… my…”

“Mm, taking that big cock,” Stiles purred.

“Spaz,” Derek growled, holding him tightly in his thick arms, “Take my _tattoo_. Wear my family’s mark.”

“Fuck,” Stiles nodded, realizing that whatever this was it was important to Derek, would comfort him on some deep level Stiles couldn’t understand yet, “Yes. I’ll wear it. Wherever you want.”

Derek moaned and buried his face in Stiles’ neck, breathing in his scent and mouthing the flesh of his mating scar. Stiles squirmed his arms free and petted his hair, settling in to rest until Derek’s knot released.

“Thank you,” Derek whispered softly.

Stiles smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of Derek’s head in response. He felt the alpha get heavier as sleep took him and decided it was worth breathing shallowly to let him rest. Stiles was partway to drifting off himself when someone knocked (banged) on the door. Derek jumped awake and growled angrily, teeth and eyes flashing towards their door.

“Police! Open up! There’s been a noise complaint!”

“Shit,” Stiles huffed, “What do we do? You’re totally tied to me!”

“Go away!” Derek roared at the doorway.

“Oh. That’ll work,” Stiles snorted.

“We can smell omega! Open up!”

“I’m the omega! I’m fine! Just some loud fun-time! Sorry about that! No need to stay! Bye! Have a great night!” Stiles shouted.

“If you can _smell him_ ,” Derek snarled, “Than you know the likelihood that I’m _in him right now_ and can’t open the fucking door! _”_

“We’re coming in!” The officer shouted, “Keep your hands visible at all times!”

“Oh my gods, I just know this is getting back to my dad,” Stiles whined, hands over his face as Derek tugged the blanket over their bodies. He put one hand above Stiles on the wall and the other flat on the bed beside him where it would be in view.

The door was shimmied open and two officers walked in, weapons drawn, and headed for Derek where he crouched over Stiles, dick still knotted in his ass as he growled angrily at the intruders. His knot wouldn’t deflate like this, not with two alphas posturing nearby. One flashed sharp teeth to show he was some sort of supernatural being but Stiles didn’t recognize the scent. Derek’s instincts would be telling him to keep his mate from being mounted, claimed, and bred by someone else.

“You here consensually?” The human officer asked Stiles, who squinted past his flashlight to see his face. He didn’t recognize him.

“Yes,” Stiles replied, tilting his neck to both calm them by submitting and show off his mating mark, “He’s my husband. Sorry about the noise officers.”

“Now get out,” Derek snarled, “You don’t have a warrant.”

“We don’t need one when someone calls with a possible 411 complaint. ”

“It’s not a 411 because he’s _not_ a lot lizard and I’m not a fucking rapist!” Derek snarled, “He’s my _husband!”_

Stiles’ eyes narrowed, “Who called, exactly?”

“Who do you think?” Derek grumbled, snuffling in Stiles’ hair and licking along his neck, “He’s mine. Tell his dad to fuck off.”

“His father looking for him?” The second officer asked, shining his light around. Stiles knew they were looking for a way to stay beyond initial questioning. They had to find something incriminating and Stiles wasn’t about to give it to them.

“He knows where I am and who I’m with. If he wants to talk to me he can call. I’m legally an adult and bound to this hot beefcake right here,” Stiles gave Derek’s bubble butt a sharp slap and he grunted, giving Stiles a warning look.

Stiles smirked, the urge to make Derek come again while the officers were present was niggling in the back of his head. Derek narrowed his eyes in realization of the wicked plan in Stiles mind as the omega’s wicked grin broadened.

“Don’t you dare, you little tart,” Derek growled.

Both flashlights swiveled towards them and Stiles giggled madly.

“You being threatened?” An officer asked, stepping closer while Stiles clenched his muscles around Derek’s knot.

“Not a lot lizard?” The second scoffed, “You always call your _husband_ a tart?”

“No, of course not!” Stiles snickered, answering both questions at once.

“Oh gods, yes,” Derek’s head fell on Stiles’ shoulder, his muscles bunching as his spine bent, “Yes, I’m being threatened. He’s got me by the dick and he’s going to drain m- _fucking hell, stop!”_

Derek’s voice had risen to a wail by the time the officers began to back towards the door, not sure if they should stay to continue making a nuisance of themselves or leave before they saw more than they wanted to. Derek was panting, his forehead pressed against Stiles’ shoulder while the younger man dragged nails up Derek’s back. Derek’s head lifted with the stimulation against his skin, mouth falling open as he groaned and every muscle in his body clenched. Derek was already exhausted but Stiles was laughing hysterically beneath him and every chuckle clenched his muscles around Derek’s knot and brought the Alpha overwhelming pleasure.

“You fucking ass!” Derek gasped, tendons and veins bulging as he shook through a wracking orgasm.

Stiles cackled gleefully and the officers, who he regretted not being able to see the mortified expressions of, hurried out of the truck and slammed the door behind them. Stiles was shaking with laughter and Derek was attempting to smother him with a pillow.

“I’ll kill you, I swear to gods!” Derek raged.

“You’ll bring them back!” Stiles tried to say through the pillow.

“I don’t care! STOP LAUGHING YOU PRICK! MY DICK HURTS! I SWEAR TO FUCKING GODS, STILES! YOU’RE A FUCKING MENACE!”

Stiles held his breath until he could control his laughter and Derek freed him from beneath the pillow. Stiles breathed through the laughter while Derek moaned in agony and rubbed at his lower abdomen.

“I think my balls ascended into hell.”

“Something about that sentence is off,” Stiles snickered.

“Laugh again and I’ll divorce you and leave you on a nude beach to be taken by the first deaf man to come across you,” Derek promised, eyes flashing red.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles swallowed and breathed deeply, “I’m good. I’m fine now.”

“Fine is right. You’re lucky you’re so fucking fine,” Derek panted, “Or I’d fucking rip out your throat with my teeth, you _asshole!”_

“Aww, you think I’m cute!” Stiles cooed, petting his sweat-damp hair.

“We’re stopping at a gym so I can soak in a hot tub,” Derek groaned, head dropping to Stiles’ shoulder, “I think you broke me.”

“I’ve never been in a hot tub,” Stiles chirped, “I’ve seen pictures, though. Can I go, too?”

Derek lifted his head and frowned at Stiles, “They didn’t let you use the one in the gym in Beacon Hills?”

“Unmated omegas aren’t allowed in them,” Stiles replied with a shrug, “There’s this stupid myth that it will trigger our heats. I looked it up and it’s been disproven, but the law’s still on the books so they wouldn’t let me.”

“That’s fucked up,” Derek told him, then shifted and sighed in relief as his knot finally released. He pushed himself up, “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Okay. I’m going t-” Stiles sat up and hissed as the flood of semen from his ass drenched the bed, “- to spot clean the bed.”

“Towels next time,” Derek frowned, grabbing his caddy and pulling a pair of shorts over his dripping dick.

Derek headed for the front with a decided limp in his step, cursing Stiles under his breath even as he gave the world around him a loopy grin. Derek slipped out and Stiles found the towels in a cupboard and put a rag between his dripping asscheeks. He laid another towel over the bed and sat on it to help it soak up their fluids, but his curiosity had him moving away.

Before Stiles could head to the showers himself he had a call to make, so he put on a robe and headed to the front, sitting down in the driver’s seat and staring out at where the squad car was still sitting. He wasn’t surprised they were there. They’d want to park in such a way as to make leaving difficult. Stiles narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the three men outside and pulled out his phone. On the third ring his father answered and the hooded ‘civilian’ talking to the two officers answered his as well.

“Dad, what the hell are you doing?”

“Stiles, hey, son, how are you-“ He tried, voice falsely pleasant.

“Look up.”

John met Stiles’ eyes just as Stiles turned on the internal light and waved at him. He sighed into the phone.

“Come out so we can talk.”

“Hell no. You’re stalking us? What the fuck?!”

“Derek killed his sister to get the alpha power from her,” John stated, “I know he did. I just can’t prove it.”

“Maybe because you’re too busy drinking your weight in whiskey to follow actual leads!” Stiles raged.

“He won’t tell me where she’s buried, Stiles. Every time he’s in town I catch him out on a parking violation or stickers or jaywalking or whatever I can, bring him to the station, and he says he’s just in town visiting her grave, but _we have yet to find a body_. He just showed up five years ago as an alpha, but I _know_ Laura inherited her mother’s power. So how the fuck d-“

“Laura?” Stiles asked sharply.

“Yes, Laura. Laura Hale…” John paused, “Did he say something about her?”

“Stop following us,” Stiles ordered, and hung up the phone. He slipped back into the living area, hit his hip on the table again, and headed for the bed while swearing to himself.

Stiles hadn’t met Derek’s older sister. She’d graduated high school before Stiles had moved up from the middle school. He’d only met Derek a handful of times, but he recalled thinking the man was attractive even back then. He’d only just emerged as an omega and was intimidated by the idea of alphas so he’d avoided most of them and just stuck to Scott. Now he was wondering what the hell had happened.

Stiles picked up his phone from where it was charging on the bedside ledge and pulled up the internet. He was always glad to find a wifi spot since Derek hadn’t fulfilled his promise to get him his own. The omega googled Hale Family, Beacon Hills, CA and stared at his screen in horror.

**Alpha Murdered by Truck Stop Prostitute**

What. The. Fuck.

The next article few articles were similarly titled, but it was several down that had him sucking in his breath.

**Amber Alert: Derek Hale**

Derek had gone missing years ago? When he was still a minor? Stiles keyed it up, preferring to get his info in order, and was met with a picture of a cherub faced Derek Hale. The young man was wearing a basketball uniform for Beacon Hill’s High School’s varsity team, so it was before he’d moved. Stiles touched the screen and scrolled down to the main body of the story. It had been updated with the resolution, so he could read the full story here.

_Derek Hale, 14, vanished from home on his way back from basketball practice at Beacon Hill’s High School on March 29 th. He was last seen in torn jeans and a black t-shirt with a Santiago logo. His sister, Laura Hale, recalls seeing him speak to an alpha female with dirty blonde hair in a black leather jacket. She is believed to be an adult. Anyone with information on-_

Stiles skipped some paragraphs detailing Derek as an outstanding student and his family as the town’s most respected and noble family, not to mention the only werewolf family in Beacon Hills.

“Huh, guess they forgot about me,” Stiles muttered.

_-Derek Hale was found in a truck stop twenty miles from Beacon Hills. He claimed to have run away and was quickly reunited with his family. No word on the mysterious woman who-_

“He’s not going to stop,” Derek sighed, opening the door to the truck and making Stiles jump and fumble his phone, “Your old man’s a persistent, prejudiced asshole.”

“I noticed,” Stiles frowned.

“Your mother was the werewolf?”

“Yeah.”

“He like this before she left you?”

“What, a wolf hater? I don’t think so,” Stiles shrugged, “He sure as hell wasn’t thrilled with me being an omega, but maybe it’s the werewolf part. I mean, my mother wasn’t thrilled either and she _is_ a werewolf. I just assumed it was because they’re both betas.”

“Your mother leaving doesn’t make sense,” Derek sat down on the edge of the bed beside Stiles, “Werewolves need pack. They need family. We aren’t… we aren’t _well_ without them.”

“Tell me about it,” Stiles replied, “Look how fucked up I was when you met me. My only pack was my father and he was drunk all the time.”

“You didn’t have anyone else?”

“I had Scott at one point but… he fell for Allison. You know how annoying I am. I can’t keep friends,” Stiles shrugged, “I’m still waiting for you to ditch me.”

“That’s not happening,” Derek replied, putting an arm around Stiles’ shoulder and pulling him in to press a kiss to his cheek, “I don’t desert pack. Now go back to sleep. We’ve wasted enough electricity as it is.”

Stiles was exhausted, physically and mentally, so he let out a relaxed sigh and sank further into the bed. Derek stretched out on his back beside him, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his bare stomach. Stiles was hogging the covers but Derek wasn’t protesting so he let himself drift off, barely remembering to clear the screen on his phone first. Derek would protest if he kept it on anyway, and after only a few days with his alpha he was already learning the value of sleep.

Stiles woke up to find Derek in a utilitarian mood. Their breakfast was always oatmeal cooked in Derek’s microwave with a quick stop at the nearest convenience store or truck stop to get them fresh coffee. Mornings- which happened at night- were all about getting moving as fast as possible. They’d dropped off their cargo the night before and picked up another an hour later, so now it was all about making the most of their driving time. Derek often had Stiles reciting local laws and ordinances during this time, most of them pretty easy since he knew the dimensions of their vehicle by rote, but this time he sat in the driver’s side and gave Stiles an unconventional order.

“Sit down,” Derek patted his lap.

Stiles frowned at his muscular thigh, sipped his cappuccino, and sat down in the passenger seat.

“No,” Derek rolled his eyes dramatically, “Sit _here_.”

“See, that’s what I _thought_ you meant, but that’s highly illegal and my dad is a cop who’s stalking us, so…”

“Shut up and sit in my fucking lap, Stiles,” Derek sighed.

“Okay,” Stiles took another hot sip and put his cup down in the cup holder in the center console, “Just so you know, I’m not calling you daddy.”

“Thank fuck,” Derek grumbled, pulling him in between his thighs. His _massive_ , muscular thighs.

“Shit, you’re like, hot everywhere,” Stiles told him, fidgeting a bit.

“This is the gear shift,” Derek told him, gripping Stiles’ hand and slapping it down hard enough to hurt, “Learn it. Love it. Respect it.”

“Okay, I wasn’t sure at first, but this is definitely turning me on,” Stiles informed him.

“Not now, Stiles,” Derek replied.

“Singing my tune, alpha,” Stiles sighed.

Derek stilled.

Stiles smirked. So apparently _alpha_ was a button word. Good to know.

They adjusted the seat and Derek ran over the gearshift instructions and planted his hand firmly on Stiles’ hand. He told him he’d be shifting while Stiles got used to pumping the pedals correctly and ‘feeling’ the shift. Stiles got them out on the road with Derek holding the shifter while he steered and pumped the pedals.

“This is so fucking _cool!_ ” Stiles crowed.

Derek kissed his shoulder right over his mating mark, “If you really like doing this I can upgrade the truck. You should have a proper home while you study for your grand career.”

“Something tells me you wanted to do that already,” Stiles teased.

“A bigger bed, maybe a dinette, a bigger closet, and even a tiny wet bathroom.”

“You had me at full sized bed,” Stiles moaned, “But wait, what’s a wet bathroom? Like the toilet has water?”

“It’s a pot to piss in,” Derek replied, “But it seals, so it doesn’t stink. The wet part refers to the toilet being _in_ the shower. So it gets wet when you shower, but it’s kinda worth it when traveling with an omega. I know I give you a lot of freedom, but I fucking hate you showering alone.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “It’s weird. If I use the men’s room I run the risk of being raped, but if I use the women’s room their weirded out by me having a dick.”

Derek growled a bit and ran his teeth over Stiles’ mating mark, chewing at it in thought. He shifted gears seemingly without thinking, as if he were unable to be distracted despite Stiles’ words being disturbing.

“Some of them even have little kitchens,” He told Stiles, “Single burner stove, small sink, full size fridge. They make ridiculously fancy ones but I was thinking a pump sink. Something that’s still small but big enough for two people.”

Stiles was silent for a bit as they made their way onto the highway before piping up.

“Are we going to have kids? Do you want kids?”

Derek was silent for an entire mile and Stiles had given up on him answering when he finally spoke up, “I don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Stiles asked, “Don’t want kids?”

“No. No kids,” Derek replied softly, “You can find another alpha if you need to. I won’t stop you.”

“No,” Stiles replied quickly, “No, I don’t want another alpha.”

“You want a career,” Derek replied.

“Yeah, and a career in politics isn’t exactly family friendly,” Stiles replied, “I’m on board with this. I am. It’s… it’s fine.”

Stiles couldn’t pat him comfortingly with one hand on the wheel and the other pinned beneath Derek’s hand on the gear shift, but he leaned back a bit more and pressed into his chest. Derek let out a slow breath, smelling of relief and comfort as he nuzzled Stiles’ shoulder.

Someone cut them off and Derek cursed their heritage while carefully downshifting and stilling Stiles’ agitated heart with a soft touch to his chest.

“You’re fine. You handled it. It’s okay.”

“We’re an 80,000 pound truck, the fuck are they thinking?!” Stiles shouted, and then winced at how loud his own voice was.

Derek chuckled and they continued in silence for a while. After a few miles with Derek grilling him about the truck’s capabilities and road laws. He was discussing the power systems and converters when they passed another truck. The CB went off and Derek left Stiles in charge of the gearshift to answer it.

“Hey there, DH2014,” A feminine voice spoke from the radio, “Long time, no see. _You_ got yourself a passenger.”

Stiles could hear Derek’s pride in his voice, “Got myself a _mate_ , MH2015.”

“Damn, cousin, does Peter know?”

Stiles went still, “Peter Hale?”

“Not his fucking business,” Derek huffed, “You heading back to base soon?”

“Yeah,” She replied, “Got myself a long haul seeing as how you took a _vacation_ out of the fucking blue. Apparently to get yourself a bunk buddy. How the fuck you making babies in that tiny ass cab of yours?”

“Going to train him and then upgrade,” Derek replied, “Been in Catherine too long anyway.”

“Peter know he’s got another employee in the making?” She asked.

“Not his _fucking business_ ,” Derek stressed again.

“Derek, did she say _Peter Hale_?” Stiles hissed at him.

“Good ride, cousin,” Derek stated, then ended the conversation as the other trucker moved off of the interstate.

“Yeah, right, good ride. Good ride,” Stiles babbled helplessly, “Did she say _Peter Hale.”_

Derek sighed heavily and asked in an exasperated tone, “How do you know Peter?”

“He bit Scott!” Stiles’ voice cracked, “I thought he was in Eichen House!”

“Not for years now,” Derek replied, “This was his company. I was running it while he was locked up, but he’s in charge again now. I’ll inherit it when he retires.”

Stiles was silent for a moment, the wheels turning in his head, and then spoke up, “They found you at a truck stop.”

Derek’s entire body stiffened behind him and the gears ground as he jerked the shift. Stiles swore, knocked his hand away, and quickly recouped before they had a horrific accident or destroyed the truck’s motor. Stiles took several steadying breaths but Derek was still and silent behind him.

“Derek, I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to drive this thing. Fixing that was pure luck. Help me off the road or get it together,” Stiles pleaded.

Derek’s hand covered his again but he didn’t lead him off the road, he just stayed silent as they continued down the road. Stiles was anxious but after a few miles he had to start relaxing or give in to a panic attack. Derek wasn’t speaking so Stiles asked him to turn on the radio and the alpha complied. Music helped Stiles relax a bit more and he eventually was leaning back against Derek again. The alpha stroked Stiles’ hips but didn’t speak again until they pulled off on a stop some thirty miles later.

“Okay,” Stile breathed, “I need to pee. Do you need anything?”

“No,” Derek grunted, and walked him out of the truck and into the stop.

Stiles hit up the family restroom while Derek waited outside. When he returned Derek had found a table and was scrolling through his tablet with a frown on his face. Stiles took Derek’s wallet out of his back pocket, giving his ass a grope, and headed for the nearest restaurant.

“What do you want, baby?” Stiles asked, causing the human beside him to give him a queer glance. He pointed to his ears and then towards Derek and she frowned more. Fucking xenophobes.

“Chicken,” Derek grunted, “Not fried.”

“Sure thing, handsome,” Stiles mumbled back, and ordered for them both.

Stiles returned to the table and smiled at Derek, “Picking out our new home?”

Derek glanced up at him and blinked a few times before refocusing, “Checking on our delivery. We’ll be there in good time. I wanted to stop by this lake for a bit. I have a tent in storage on top of the truck trailer. I thought we’d take in a bit of night air.”

“Oh. I’d love that,” Stiles smiled big and then attempted to find a milder question to ask, “So, are all your deliveries from the same company?”

“Mm-hm,” Derek nodded, sipping his water. He never drank soda and Stiles found that endearing.

“With Peter Hale?” Stiles tried again.

Derek lowered the pad with a sigh, “Peter’s better.”

“Not fine, though. Just better,” Stiles stated.

“It’s his business,” Derek stated, picking the pad back up, “But I’ll be inheriting it. You’ll get used to him. He’s an asshole just like you.”

“Gee, winning resume there. So he’s our boss.”

“For now, yes.”

“Liking the ‘for now’,” Stiles nodded, “I need snacks.”

Derek replied, “No crumbs in the cab.”

“I’ll help you with the next hook up,” Stiles sang.

“You’ll do that anyway,” Derek replied, “You’re here to learn, not just lay on your back and-“

Derek cut himself off, glancing around as he recalled their possible audience. Stiles smirked but let Derek’s reddening ears speak for themselves.

“We could do custom,” Stiles purred, “I read Volvo does custom models.”

Derek’s eyes rose slowly and Stiles grinned as his pupils dilated, “They have these huge cabs that are basically RV’s. Bolt’s another one. Big and beautiful.”

“Mm, yeah,” Stiles purred, “Like you.”

Derek gave his head a slight shake, “Let’s finish up and get going. What’s our Dead Head for this load?”

Stiles sighed and recited the poundage per mile while Derek nodded and tapped on his tablet. He wasn’t really listening so Stiles pulled out his phone again and resumed his previous search.

 _The Hale family, whose eldest beta male owns and operates a trucking company that covers most of the West Coast_ , _suffered a horrific tragedy last Sunday night._ The article was dated for several years prior and Stiles squinted at the screen as he recalled that it was some time after the Hales left Beacon Hills.

_Matriarch Talia Hale and her husband Jethro were murdered by a truck stop prostitute, commonly referred to as a lot lizard, when visiting with younger brother Peter Hale to introduce their eldest child Laura to the business. Laura is in line to inherit Peter’s business since the beta has never taken a mate. The family was reportedly-_

Stiles paused in his perusal to find Derek watching him with a steady gaze. Stiles smiled softly, “What?”

“Yes,” Derek stated.

“Yes, what?” Stiles asked.

“You’re looking me up, right? So. Yes, I ran away to be a lot lizard.”

Stiles went cold, lowering the phone, “Wh-what?”

Derek sighed and put his tablet down as well, “I’d heard stories about them from Peter growing up. He always glorified them. My parents had no idea he’d been filling my head with filth. Then one day he took Laura and I out for a ride in his day runner- just a short one to the next town over- and I asked him to buy me an hour. He did. I lost my virginity with Kate.”

Stiles swallowed but didn’t respond. His mouth was dry so he fumbled for his coffee and took a huge swallow before nodding and waiting for Derek to continue. He didn’t know what to say for once so Derek simply nodded and continued.

“She gave me her phone number. I was… stupid and young. I called her every night like an idiot, convinced I was in love.”

“She… she was recruiting you?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah,” Derek replied, his voice dead cold, “She was.”

“You… you were okay, right? Your parents came and got you. That’s what the article said. You didn’t… nothing awful happened. It was years later when… but it wasn’t because you… their deaths were unconnected, right?”

“You’re the sheriff’s kid. You tell me.”

Derek picked his tablet back up and Stiles stared down at his phone miserably. He turned it off. He didn’t want to know. Not this way. Not from a cold and unfeeling news article. They’d already made Derek running away sound _so_ damn innocent. It hadn’t been and Stiles felt sick inside as he pictured Derek’s 14-year-old face smiling and posing in his basketball shorts. The misguided hand of his uncle ripped that innocence away from him along with some bitch named Kate.

“You ready?” Derek asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, standing and following Derek back out to the truck.

Derek always opened the door for Stiles, mostly because Derek owned the only set of keys, but this time he held it open and waited until Stiles had climbed in before closing it. Stiles was deep in thought and didn’t realize Derek wasn’t entering as well. He peered out and didn’t see his husband so he opened the door and hung out of it, trying to catch a glimpse of his mate. Derek was talking to someone by a bush a few feet away, but when he glanced over and saw Stiles he headed over without another look back. The woman was beautiful, curly blonde hair and plush lips stared back at Stiles in challenge. Stiles stilled, eyes narrowing. His wolf was telling him to go take her down, to fight for his mate, to make sure Derek knew he was the strongest, most fertile omega.

“Stop that,” Derek barked out, placing his hand in the center of Stiles’ chest.

Stiles blinked and shook his head in alarm. He’d been halfway across the parking lot to confront some woman he didn’t even know!

“I…” Stiles stammered.

“She’s not your competition,” Derek told him firmly, “Get back in the truck.”

“Come with me,” Stiles insisted.

Derek nodded and followed him as Stiles anxiously glanced back at her over and again. She had a smug smirk on her face that Stiles’ wolf still wanted to wipe off with the greasy pavement she was standing on.

“I’m going to fuck you into next week,” Derek growled, “That was sexy as hell.”

“That was stupid and probably would have gotten me killed,” Stiles huffed, indicating his slender frame, “I’m not exactly used to tussling with anyone. Even other omegas.”

Stiles had left the cab door open but this time when he climbed up Derek followed him and herded him towards the back, eyes glowing red with lust.

“I can’t believe you were going to challenge Erica for me,” Derek growled, shoving Stiles onto their bed and stripping his shirt off in one smooth move.

Stiles was unmoved and glared up at his husband irritably, “Yeah, no. This is the part where you reassure me that _Erica_ has no chance in hell with you and that you’ve _completely_ retired your lot-lizard-hopping days.”

Derek barked out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, “Erica’s not a lot lizard, she’s an artist.”

Derek leaned forward to climb on top of Stiles, but his foot shot up and planted in Derek’s shoulder. The alpha’s smile vanished and he frowned at Stiles- a familiar expression- as he tried to figure out why his omega wasn’t going ass-up for him as usual.

“Not. Comforting,” Stiles growled, his eyes flashing lime green as his werewolf became absolutely _infuriated_. The urge to bolt around Derek and take off after Erica was rising in him and his claws flexed out of his fingertips.

Derek’s eyes glowed in the darkness and he gripped Stiles’ ankle in one huge hand. His voice changed timber as the alpha let out the soothing rumble meant to calm his omega. Stiles wasn’t swayed. He knew his alpha had other lovers out there and he wasn’t fucking around. Stiles’ entire body twitched to bolt after her and Derek pinned him with his free hand and bared his teeth, growling demandingly.

“I’m here,” Derek growled, “With you.”

“Now,” Stiles growled back through a mouthful of teeth.

Stiles rarely let his wolf out to play. The last time he’d indulged Scott had been bitten and after that it had all been about helping his buddy adjust. His own needs, as most omegas were taught to do, were put off to one side. Not this time. This time Stiles had _needs_ , and they weren’t in his pants. They were out there in the world, frightening and threatening his future with an alpha who admitted children weren’t an interest of his. What did he have to offer if not his womb?

“You,” Derek growled, kissing the calf of the foot he was holding captive with each word, “Are. My. Mate.”

“My mate,” Stiles repeated, his words thick and gravely.

“My. _Only_. Mate,” Derek growled, reaching down to tug Stiles’ sweatpants down his ass with one firm jerk, “No one will entice me away from you. No one has what I need.”

“What do I have that you need?” Stiles asked, feeling his teeth retreat a bit.

“This,” Derek breathed.

Stiles didn’t understand what he meant until Derek moved again, and this time it was to tackle Stiles. He was pulling clothes aside, growling as he nipped along Stiles’ neck and quickly-bared shoulder. Derek’s own clothes were nearly torn by Stiles’ greedy fingers as he pulled his jeans down. Derek pinned his omega to the bed, but Stiles was voracious now that he’d heard what he needed to hear. He rolled the alpha, nearly knocking them both to the ground in the small bed. Derek’s eyes widened in shock as Stiles shredded his boxers with his claws, gripped his cock in one hand while the alpha hissed in alarm at such a near threat, and slid down his length without hesitation. Derek swore, eyes rolling back in his head in shock as his jaw fell open. Stiles swore as well, but from a jolt of pain rather than excitement. He ignored it. His body would heal, his heart needed this moment with Derek beneath him at his mercy. The alpha was completely undone by Stiles’ passage moving over him in sharp demand of the alpha’s attention. He would suck his pleasure from him with every grip of his muscles as he rode him to completion.

Derek gasped beneath him, clawing at Stiles’ hips and blooding him unintentionally. Stiles gripped his pecks and growled in approval as the spicy scent of arousal and copper filled the cab. Derek looked shocked, his eyebrows high and eyes wide. Stiles had never taken initiative in bed until now, preferring to let Derek tell him when sex was welcome. Now he was panting and grinding down on the alpha with determined motions, his hips dancing over Derek’s waist. The slighter felt powerful and alive, head thrown back as he howled out his possession to the sky. Derek gasped and his knot expanded at record pace. Stiles dropped himself down on it hard and let out a shout of joy as Derek’s jaw went slack. The alpha moaned deeply and arched beneath him as his pleasure rendered him speechless. Stiles growled possessively and raked his nails down Derek’s chest as further reminder _not_ to fuck with his affections. Derek let out a startled cry, bucked up, and came again while panting breathlessly. He was staring up at Stiles in shock, as he lay spent and drenched in sweat in their bed.

Stiles was more than a bit out of breath himself. He was also rock-hard and unsatisfied and as Derek gazed up at him in wonder the omega decided he wasn’t _quite_ done claiming his man. Stiles gripped himself firmly in one fist and jerked himself firmly. Derek glanced down at him and then arched provocatively. The alpha being a submissive vessel for Stiles’ pleasure was _definitely_ doing it for the omega. He let out a deep groan of excitement and gave his wrist a twist to bring himself off with an extremely satisfying spurt across Derek’s chest.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles moaned, eyes fluttering as he painted Derek’s chest with pearly fluids.

The omega reached down the second he could see straight again and smeared his fingers through his leavings. Derek was panting hard again, the omega’s climax having stimulated him to the edge of orgasm once again. While his mate began to roll his hips and grind his knot inside of Stiles’ body, the omega reached up to press his slick finger’s into Derek’s lax mouth. The alpha’s eyes opened, his eyebrows dropping as he silently scolded Stiles for his presumptiveness, but Stiles wasn’t done yet.

“Shift your thigh up.”

“Wha?” Derek panted.

“Shift up,” Stiles growled deeply, leering down at Derek as he ran his fingers through more of his spunk.

“No fucking way,” Derek growled, but bent his knee and lifted his hips up.

Stiles had to contort himself to reach beneath Derek’s body and between his firm buttocks. Even then Derek was clenched closed but he gave Stiles a nod and he pressed one slick finger firmly inside of him. For a moment Stiles just fingered him firmly, but when he saw Derek’s glazed expression he teased the furled hole until the alpha twitched beneath him and then came with a long, deep groan.

Finally Derek sank back down onto the bed, relaxing as Stiles sat on top of him with a proud smirk. The omega stroked his clean hand through the alpha’s hair, scratching his scalp and watching him sigh in bliss at the contact. He pushed up into Stiles’ hand and the omega laughed lightly.

“Don’t you dare,” Derek peered at him with one eye open.

Stiles shook his head gently, “I’m going to fall in love with you, you know. It’s basically inevitable.”

Derek’s contented smile melted away into a guarded look, “And?”

“And I’m trusting you not to hurt me,” Stiles replied softly, “I’m not as… ya know… experienced as you are. I’m scared, Derek.”

Derek’s hands squeezed his hips tightly, “I won’t hurt you.”

“Promise?”

Derek was still a moment, “Yeah. Promise.”

“Thank you.”

“Promise…” Derek hesitated a moment and Stiles smiled softly, leaning forward to kiss his lips.

“I promise not to hurt you, either.”

“Thank you.”


	7. Chapter 7

As it turned out, Erica really _was_ an artist. A tattoo artist. And a sadist. Apparently one had to be both to put tattoos on werewolves. Erica chained Stiles to a padded bench while Derek watched with a look of amusement and tattooed Derek’s family crest onto the screaming omega’s upper arm… with a blowtorch…

She started by burning the flesh in a set pattern, using a metal cone to direct the fire where Derek wanted it. Then she poured ink into the recessed third degree burn, wrapped it in saran wrap like a hoagie, and told him to focus on healing his flesh. Stiles screamed anew as his flesh knit _over_ the pool of ink and absorbed the color into the new skin. When she removed the saran wrap and gently patted and cleaned the area he was left with a pink and grey tattoo. The pink, of course, was the new skin that was still finishing healing.

“Is there some reason you couldn’t take my pain?” Stiles sniffled, getting shakily to his feet.

“It might have made a dent,” Derek admitted, “But at the end of the day you need to experience it fully. Do you know what the word tattoo means?”

“Fuck up your husband and give him PTSD?” Stiles glared.

“It means ‘to mark something’,” Derek replied evenly.

“I’m already marked,” Stiles indicated his mating mark but winced as it caused him to move his aching arm.

“Now you’re marked as a Hale,” Derek replied, “It’s more than just a symbol, Stiles. Our pack goes back for centuries. By belonging to the Hale Pack as well as to me you’re accepting our culture, place in society, and rights.”

“Wow,” Stiles nodded, letting Derek scoop him up from where he was wobbling on shaky legs, “Probably something you should have told me before I had it burnt into my flesh.”

Derek snorted, “Your acceptance of the pain was a part of that destiny.”

“You going to change your mind about having babies?” Stiles wondered hesitantly.

“No,” Derek snorted, “My sister Cora is carrying on the Hale name. I’m trying to find her a nice boy to breed with.”

“She’s… not looking herself?”

“She doesn’t travel much,” Derek replied, “I do.”

“Wait…” Stiles stilled, “You were at the mating grounds looking for a match for your sister?”

“No,” Derek replied, “She’s an beta and generally prefers betas.”

Stiles considered his words for a moment, “You were a beta once.”

Derek didn’t answer, settling for putting Stiles back up into the truck and shutting the door behind him.

By the time Derek climbed back into the truck Stiles had worked it out, “You’re looking to rescue people.”

“What?” Derek scoffed.

“You are. You’re looking to rescue people. You were a lizard once, but you were a beta. So not all the lizards are omegas. So you’re going around basically… _interviewing_ lot lizards for your sister!”

Derek started the truck and drove off, ignoring Stiles statement which was as admission as it got with Derek. Stiles considered him for a moment.

“I won’t stop you,” Stiles told him, “But do the interviews have to involve sex?”

“What makes you think they ever did?”

“Your entire drawer full of condoms and lube,” Stiles snorted.

Derek rolled his eyes, “I told you. I’m not ashamed of having sex with lot lizards. We’re all consenting adults.”

“Yeah, but you _were_ one. You have to know they’re victims!”

“No, I happen to know _from experience_ that it takes one hell of a confident person to prostitute themselves. Not every lot lizard is a victim, Stiles. The ones who are I offer to help, the ones who aren’t I enjoy my time with. They have to make a living, too.”

“Enjoyed,” Stiles stressed the past tense.

Derek nodded, “Exactly.”

“But you _are_ interviewing them for Cora?” Stiles asked.

Derek nodded, “I had heard that there was a young man in Beacon Hills who was in trouble. Apparently he’d considered prostitution and then decided it wasn’t for him. I was hoping to see if he needed help. I never found him.”

“Who?” Stiles asked.

“Someone named Isaac.”

Stiles was silent a moment, “Yeah, my dad’s arrested his dad a few times. Keeps beating the shit out of Isaac. No idea why he doesn’t just leave.”

“Probably can’t for some reason. Mental. Financial. Emotional. Whatever.”

“My dad could have found him for you.”

“Your dad wants me behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit,” Derek scoffed.

“Why won’t you tell him where Laura’s body is?”

Derek growled irritably.

“Oh, come on, Derek. I get the man-pain thing, but he’s going to harass you for the rest of his life if you don’t tell him. Or do you not know?”

“It’s instinct, Stiles,” Derek grumbled, “We bury our packmates to stop predators from desecrating them, usually plant a wolfsbane above them to stop other weres from-”

“And then the worms, corpse beetles, and other odd larvae get them,” Stiles stated bluntly.

“Fuck’s sake, Stiles!” Derek choked out, face scrunching up.

“I’m sorry, Derek, but it’s bullshit. She’s not _in_ there anymore. Her body is just a vessel. Whatever your after-death beliefs are, that’s fine, but her body could have evidence on it that could catch her killer!”

Derek was silent, scowling at the road in obvious outrage, and Stiles studied him, eyes narrowed, “You fucking know who killed her, don’t you?”

Derek’s teeth audibly ground together and Stiles swore for a solid minute, “You fucking know?!”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“Tell me it was an accident,” Stiles groaned, running his hand down his face.

“It was an accident.”

“Was it?” Stiles asked, voice cracking in exasperation.

“ _No,”_ Derek growled.

“And there’s evidence on her body, isn’t there?”

“No,” Derek replied, “If there was, instincts or not, I’d have turned her body over. I’m not trying to halt an investigation. I smelled and handled her body. There was no evidence. She was torn, not clawed or bitten. No imprints. Nothing.”

“So you’re protecting whoever killed her.”

“No.”

Stiles huffed, “Peter turned Scott and got away with it on an insanity plea and… that was shortly after your entire family was murdered which was why he went nuts but… was it the same time as Laura was murdered?”

Derek nodded mutely.

“So the timeline fits, but my dad doesn’t think that Peter did it,” Stiles worried, “Why not?”

“Because I have her power.”

“Because _you_ have her power,” Stiles replied, “And your uncle is still alive. After turning Scott and murdering your sister.”

Derek nodded his head, lips pressed together tightly, “It wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t intentional. He wasn’t well, Stiles.”

“Well?!” Stiles shrieked.

Derek pulled over the truck and turned to face him, “Calm the fuck down.”

Stiles realized belatedly that he was panting for breath, hand clutching his chest so hard his nails were digging into his skin. He was headed for a panic attack and once he realized it he spiraled right down the rabbit hole. Blackness crept in on the edges of Stiles’ vision, his breath went from fast to wheezing, and he began slashing at his skin and pulling his hair. He needed the pain to center him, to stop the fear that was overwhelming his mind. Derek grabbed Stiles and dragged him into the sleeper cab, pinning him to the bed and sitting on his hips.

“You’re having a panic attack-“

“I fucking KNOW!” Stiles screamed, thrashing in his arms.

“I’m going to help you through this, but I can’t let you hurt yourself.”

“Self mutilation is a coping skill that-“

“That harms you. Listen to my voice. Focus. I want you to look around you and count five things that you can see.”

“Can’t… can’t…” Stiles gasped, eyes darting around as little dots of light obstructed his vision.

“Focus!”

“Net…” Stiles panted.

“One,” Derek said softly.

“Vent.”

“Two.”

“Calendar, clipboard, chair,” Stiles rattled off, his vision clearing as he focused on the back of Derek’s chair and the contents of the back board.

“Five. Good. Four things you can touch.”

“Not in the mood!”

“Four. Things. You. Can. Touch.”

“Your huge ass fucking thighs!”

“One.”

“That’s two! Fine! Knees!”

“Two.”

“Your hands, your fingers.”

“Three things you can hear.”

“Fucking hear… your voice. The engine. Traffic,” Stiles’ breathing was slowing down, the focus taken off of his panic as he took in the world around him.

“Two things you can smell.”

“You,” Stiles closed his eyes a moment and took in a slow, deep breath, “Your scent. Warm and spicy. My mate.”

“One.”

“Gasoline.”

“It’s diesel, but yeah. Two. Now, one thing you can taste.”

“The bile in the back of my fucking throat,” Stiles whimpered, tears starting up.

“Okay, good, you with me?”

“Yeah,” Stiles whimpered.

Derek slipped off of his hips and helped Stiles sit up, wrapping his arms around his mate’s body and pulling him into his lap. He petted him gently and whispered encouragement until Stiles focused his ability on healing and the wounds across his chest closed up. Derek pressed kisses to his temple and rocked him gently.

“I would never let him hurt you,” Derek soothed, stroking his arm, “It’s fine. You’re okay. You’re safe. He’s never getting close to you.”

A knock at the trailer cab door had Stiles jumping in Derek’s arms, but he just kissed his temple and stood up, moving to the front with Stiles held tightly in his arms. He sat on the passenger seat and put the window down to face the officer on the other side. Stiles whimpered and buried his face in Derek’s collar.

“Evening, Officer,” Derek stated easily, far less gruff than usual as he kept rubbing Stiles’ back to comfort him.

“You’re pulled over without flares or reflective signs,” The officer stated.

“It was an emergency,” Derek stated, “We’re good to move on now.”

“He okay?” The officer asked, pulling the door open to look inside as Derek unlocked it for him.

Stiles was tense. He had seen Derek chase off his father and the officers who had investigated his ‘abuse’ with ease, but now Derek was playing charming instead. He was stroking Stiles’ arm and nuzzling his hair while smiling softly with a sad look on his face.

“Just upset,” Derek stated, “We found out about a loss in the family. He’s a bit shook up.”

“Sorry to hear that,” The man replied, “Going to need to see your paperwork.”

Derek nodded and leaned sideways, collecting the information while Stiles sniffled and tried to get himself together.

“I can move,” Stiles told him, “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine right where you are,” Derek told him, “It’s fine, sweetheart. Here you go, officer.”

Derek handed over both licenses, his registration for the truck, work orders, time sheets, and business appointments all inside of one clipboard case. The officer walked back to his car, grabbing Derek’s emergency sign and giving him a pointed look on his way. Derek smiled and gave him a wave, tucking Stiles closer to himself. Stiles cuddled in tight, breathing in his scent and trying to focus his rolling thoughts. As he took deep breaths of his husband’s scent the alpha made deep, low rumbles that soothed the omega’s anxiety. By the time the officer returned and told them to be safe he was calm enough for Derek to lay him down in the bed and head out to collect their road sign. He returned and started the truck.

“You have to be buckled,” Derek reminded him, “Come on.”

Stiles groaned and pulled the restraints up from under the mattress. They fastened into some straps on the wall via seat belt latches. Stiles plugged them in and collapsed back onto the bed to curl up in exhaustion. Panic attacks always left him drained emotionally and mentally, but he had the fortitude to call out to Derek as he started back up on the road.

“How did you know what to do?”

“I had panic attacks after my family died,” Derek replied, “I’m guessing you googled that, too.”

“Some of it,” Stiles replied, “I couldn’t get through it. Want you to tell me.”

Derek snorted, “Don’t hold your breath.”

Stiles woke up long after Derek had parked for the day and joined him in bed. The man was curled up around Stiles like the big, steamy blanket he became at night so Stiles had to wriggle out of his grip to enact his plan.

“Mph,” Derek grunted, pulling him back, “Mine.”

“Your omega, yeah,” Stiles purred softly, making a few soft huffs to soothe the alpha, “Your omega who has to pee.”

“Go wiff you,” Derek mumbled.

“Sure, honey,” Stiles soothed, “Let me just get the keys…”

Stiles pulled free and took the keys and shower caddy from the tray beside the bed, slipping out the door in convenience store flip-flops, a t-shirt and boxers, and a robe. He headed to the bathroom to piss and then put a few credits in so he could shower. With the shower running to cover any conversation he dialed a number into his cell that he’d erased years ago but couldn’t forget.

“Stiles, holy shit,” Scott’s breathed, “Are you okay? Your dad is freaking out and-“

“Listen, don’t speak, I don’t have much time,” Stiles whispered, his voice carrying to Scott’s werewolf ears.

“Shit, shit, you are in trouble, _shit!”_

“Who bit you?” Stiles whispered.

“What?”

“Did Peter Hale bite you, or was it someone else?”

“Peter did. They sent him to Eichen House, remember?”

“Yeah, they did, but _was it him?”_

“What?”

“Was it him? Or was he… describe him.”

“I can’t, dude, I didn’t really see him,” Scott replied, “Your dad was the one who arrested Peter. He would know.”

“I don’t think he arrested Peter for that,” Stiles whispered, “I think he arrested him to get to Derek.”

“Your husband?”

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed, “I think he didn’t have enough to put Derek on trial for biting you, so he went after Peter because Peter’s was clearly off his rocker, and he knew Derek was following in Peter’s shoes with the whole lot lizard thing, but then Derek _conveniently_ picked up the town sheriff’s loser kid and next thing you know he’s got immunity, but there’s a fucking _body_ out there somewhere with evidence on it!”

“The one I saw?”

“What?”

“The body I saw. The night I got bitten. Remember?”

Stiles froze, his recollection of the night shaky. He’d been so guilt-ridden. He’d been the one who encouraged Scott to sneak out during a full moon because he wanted pack during his monthly run. His father had refused. Stiles hadn’t wanted to face the rejection of what he was but looking back it was clear as day, and when Scott had come back rambling about a body with a wound in his side Stiles had been so destroyed over his best friends injury that he’d let his dad brush Scott’s claims under the rug.

“Wait…” Stiles whispered, “Where did the body go? Dad said he never found Laura’s body.”

“I tried to take them back after I got back from the hospital, but the body was gone and the whole area was completely clean. Your dad thought I hallucinated it.”

Stiles was silent long enough that Scott hissed and asked if he were okay, “I gotta go.”

Stiles hung up and dialed his father, speaking before he had a chance to start once he heard the volume change, “Do you think Derek’s guilty or are you looking for more dirt on Peter?”

“I’ll take what I can get,” John replied cautiously, “What have you got?”

“Look for a plot of wolfsbane on the Hale lands. He’d have kept her in his territory and it’s near the reserve and the campgrounds,” Stiles hung up the phone, nauseated by his betrayal and regretting it the next instant, “Oh, fuck. What did I just do?”

A hand slammed into Stiles’ shoulder and he was shoved into the cold tile wall as a hard body pinned him with enough force to prevent him catching the wind that had been knocked out of him. Stiles found himself with stars dancing in front of his eyes for the second time in twenty-four hours… and for all the wrong reasons. A gruff hand jerked his boxers down as the water washed his hair into his eyes and Stiles tried to push away from the wall far enough so that he could take in a breath and defend himself to his husband. It would have to be verbal defense, because he’d been fucked upside-down by those arms and they were _immovable_.

Which was why Stiles knew when he was able to do a push-up and take in a breath that this was _not_ his mate, even a second before the scents finally penetrated his sinuses and let him smell the stink of an unfamiliar alpha.

“Derek!” Stiles choked out, but his lungs hadn’t quite recovered and his arms gave out a second later. His call hadn’t been _nearly_ loud enough to get his call over the sound of people in the truck stop.

“Sexy little bitch,” A hot breath burned his neck and Stiles renewed his struggles despite the hand that clamped over his mouth.

Stiles kicked back with one leg and belatedly remembered his teeth. He was so used to hiding his wolf that biting the hand over his face wasn’t first instinct.

A roar echoed off the walls of the bathroom, making Stiles’ ears ring and scaring the bastard pinning Stiles against the wall. The hands were ripped off of him, clawing one of Stiles’ arms in the process, and Stiles spun around while gasping for breath. His hands flew up in belated defense but Derek was already ripping the throat out of the man who had attempted to violate Stiles. The alpha lay on the floor in a puddle of blood that was quickly headed for Stiles’ feet. Stiles shrieked and bolted away from it, vomiting into the drain of the shower beside his.

“Oh my gods, oh my gods,” Stiles choked.

“What the _fuck_ was I thinking?” Derek growled, “Why the fuck didn’t I put a belt on you? Why the _hell_ were you in the men’s room?!”

“I…” Stiles choked, and doubled over to be sick again, “I walked into the wr-wrong one. I’ve used men’s rooms longer than women’s.”

“Did he touch you?” Derek demanded, grabbing Stiles’ shoulders and pulling him upright.

Stiles shook his head, eyes wide with horror. Every law about mate-claiming and possession was running through his head at a million miles an hour as Derek forced him to drink some water from the sink and stared into his eyes carefully or a moment. Derek’s roar had brought in a dozen witnesses and Derek was taking turns petting Stiles and growling at the masses behind him.

The police got there and headed inside to separate Derek from Stiles, which garnered growls and a few irritated glances from Derek. He surrendered Stiles to the omega officers with a firm parting kiss to his lips. The man and woman led Stiles to one side and took a few quick pictures, before sitting him down. The one collected evidence off of him while the other distracted him by getting Stiles’ attention to ask a few quick questions.

“Hey, talk to me,” The man insisted, taking a hand after the woman had finished scraping his nails, “Just tell us what happened.”

“I can’t believe he just kissed my pukey lips,” Stiles whispered, “Shit, does my breath smell?”

“It’s fine,” The human omega male lied, “Is the alpha that’s standing over there your customer? Or was it the dead one?”

“Oh, shit, no. Not a lot turtle or whatever it’s called,” Stiles shook his head, “I came here with Derek. He’s my husband and that creep was being gross and rapey. I know I’m safer in the women’s room, but there’s no law about it so… I mean… I just wasn’t paying attention when I walked in here. Tired, you know? Trucker’s work. Up with Derek all night long. Um. Nobody re-claimed me. All he did was get creepy and breathe on my neck. Like he clawed me and ripped up my pants, and he was _totally_ going to rape me, but Derek stopped him.”

“Did he say anything about claiming you?” He asked, looking a bit alarmed.

Stiles’ mind flailed. Derek’s freedom hinged on what he replied, “He called me a sexy bitch. No, no! A sexy _little_ bitch. Uh-huh. He’s wrong. I’m big for an omega and Derek and I agreed that I wouldn’t be doing the brood mare thing.”

The female omega snorted and Stiles scowled at her, but Derek was headed over to him at a fast pace.

“We’re leaving,” Derek growled.

“That fast?” Stiles glanced up.

“This shit happens all the time,” Derek huffed, “They’re just glad you’re not a lot lizard. I promised to keep your fucking belt on you whenever you leave the sleeper without me. Come on.”

Derek was hurrying Stiles’ things into the caddy and stuffing them into his arms.

“Can’t I shower?” Stiles asked, “I could use the women’s room or…?”

“No,” Derek stated flatly, “We’re leaving. I want you away from here.”

“Yeah, instinct, yeah,” Stiles rambled, “But I’m _gross_ and I…”

“No,” Derek stated flatly.

“Derek, my mouth tastes like puke.”

“Mouthwash,” Derek grunted, gripping Stiles’ arm and dragging him towards the exit. Stiles winced and Derek paused, looking at his arm, “Stiles, I promise I will buy you a night in a _nice_ hotel, but I have to have you away from the smell of blood and alphas _now_.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed, nodding at the sight of a vein throbbing in his temple.

Derek pulled Stiles out of the bathroom and towards the truck at a fast pace, not bothering to hide his now bare ass as he practically shoved him into the cab.

“Buckle up,” Derek ordered.

Stiles snapped in and Derek took off at a very unsafe pace, especially for a man who had just finished talking to the police.

“They’re not arresting you?”

“Omegas are property, remember? It’s bullshit, but it’s a thing. She tried to rob me and I defended myself. Once they determined you weren’t a lot lizard-“

“HOW did they determine that?”

“Your nails.”

“Riiight,” Stiles drawled.

“Anyway,” Derek huffed, “Once they determined you were legitimately my mate the fault was all hers.”

“Wow,” Stiles replied, “So you can guiltlessly kill anyone who attacks your… omega…”

“Considering the fact omegas are ‘valuable property’, technically speaking anyone can kill to protect an omega. They just have to prove it was instinct to do so. Even betas have-“

Stiles stiffened, fear coursing through his body, and Derek fell silent at his sudden fear scent.

“Derek?” Stiles asked.

“What?” Derek asked, tensing up as he hit the signal for another exit.

“Derek, were you a beta?”

“What?”

“Were you an _omega_?” Stiles asked more sharply.

Derek’s nostrils flared and he pulled up to a hotel and Stiles glanced sideways to see that it wasn’t the fancy one he’d been promised. He didn’t call Derek on it because the alpha was staring at the steering wheel and rubbing his thumb over the bumps.

“Derek, you were an omega,” Stiles whispered, “Whose uncle bought him an hour with a lot lizard… who got manipulated _by_ that lot lizard…”

“Stop,” Derek whispered.

“You don’t have those condoms for bedding lot lizards, you have them for dealing with _heat_ ,” Stiles breathed in horror, “Fucking hell, Derek. She _used_ you.”

“Just…”

“And you ran away again, didn’t you? You told me that tidbit so I’d stop digging, but that wasn’t the end because once your heats started you couldn’t _stop_. You didn’t have a choice.”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, STILES!” Derek screamed, punching the steering wheel hard enough to dent it.

Stiles jumped and shook his head quickly, “Instincts, Derek. You’re always talking about them and they’re new to you. Because you didn’t get Laura’s powers when _she_ died. You got them when your uncle was released later… how much later?”

Derek swallowed hard, still staring out the window, “A year.”

“A year alone, packless, suffering, finding some tricky way to disguise yourself as an alpha so you could run your uncle’s business… you _had_ to prostitute yourself and it was all you really knew. You pretended to be alpha until Peter was released and then you demanded freedom from the hell you were in-“

“Don’t make it sound _poetic_ ,” Derek spat out in disgust.

“How did you do it?” Stiles asked, “A ritual?”

“Does it matter?”

“ _Why_ did _he_ do it?” Stiles asked, “More instincts? See, you’re upset about talking about Laura, but not about your uncle or your prostitution.”

“I punched the wheel when you were-“

“Because I was getting close, wasn’t I? You couldn’t stop hooking and Laura wasn’t having it and you keep saying that wolves without packs aren’t well. Laura had lost her pack, all except you who she blamed and Peter who was busy with his business so…”

“I swear to all the gods I will leave you here,” Derek whispered.

“Derek, what did she do to you?” Stiles whispered, “Peter wasn’t nuts _before_ the attack, he wouldn’t have been sane enough to help you hide your omega status or run his business.”

“You don’t get to know that,” Derek growled.

“I have to know, Derek,” Stiles whispered in horror, “Because I told my dad how to find Laura’s body and if he does he…”

“He’ll get off my case finally,” Derek let out a bitter laugh.

“Derek, I’m so sorry,” Stiles breathed, “You were acting shady and…”

“She had my key, Stiles, the fuck do you think happened?”

Stiles froze, “No, wait. If she had your key you couldn’t… She was _selling you_?”

“From the back of the truck while she ran taught me the business,” Derek replied coldly, “That I could live with. Hell, I liked it. I never suffered through a single heat. Then she started getting ideas…”

Stiles felt his stomach roll again, “Oh my gods. You… it wasn’t the hooking that was the problem it was… she tried to… to get more _pack_ she…”

“Get out.”

“It’s not my-“

“Get _out!”_

“I nearly got raped today, Derek, don’t throw me out. I don’t have your fortitude,” Stiles pleaded.

Derek ran his hand over his face, “ _Nobody_ has the fortitude for being raped, Stiles.”

“Gods, this is awful,” Stiles sniffled, “Did you just about… lose it seeing me? Did I give you flashbacks? Fuck, that was an alpha female, too. Did she look like Laura? Tell me she didn’t look like Laura.”

Stiles was sobbing before he realized it and Derek moved around the console, tugged him up, and sat down in Stiles’ seat with the omega in his lap.

“It’s okay,” Derek whispered, “It’s okay. I won’t ever let someone rape you and I’d never prostitute you.”

“Why did you even take me?” Stiles sobbed, “You don’t want an omega. You don’t want to breed, you didn’t want to marry, I’m just a big, bad memory for you, aren’t I? Oh my _gods_ , you tried to hang yourself, you basically told me!”

“Yeah,” Derek replied, “And now we’re two idiots driving around in a truck trying to heal. Me from being used and you from being neglected. You’re so fucking down on yourself but you’re _brilliant_ , Stiles. I don’t want to run my uncle’s business. I want _you to run it_.”

“Wh-what?” Stiles sniffled and sat back blinking down at him in confusion, “But I’m an omega. We can work, but we can’t own.”

“Yeah, you are an omega,” Derek wiped a tear off of his cheek and smiled into his eyes, “And you _will_ run a business, and if you can run a business than you can go into politics. You can make a name for yourself and then we can sell and you can go to Washington and be amazing.”

“All because you rescued me,” Stiles hiccupped.

Derek teased along Stiles’ jaw again, “You were five feet from Laura’s grave, Stiles, and I _had_ looked up a decent way to kill myself. You rescued _me_.”

“We’re a bunch of fucking losers,” Stiles hiccupped.

“Fuck you, I’m a gorgeous former male hooker.”

Stiles laughed and shook his head, leaning down to kiss his nose gently.

“Let’s get a room,” Derek insisted, “I need to bathe you.”

“You’re going to fuck me after, right?” Stiles asked hopefully.

“No, you’re going to tell me why the _hell_ you talked to your dad about my sister’s grave.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.”

“It’s just…” Stiles let Derek drag him out of the truck and watched as he locked it up, “It’s just that you were being so shady… although I guess the word I should use is _traumatized_.”

“Mmhm,” Derek nodded, leading him to the hotel door.

“Have I mentioned that my ass is hanging out of torn, wet clothes?” Stiles asked.

The attendant looked up in horror and Stiles smiled weakly and waved, “Hi.”

“We need a room with a bathtub. Preferably a hot tub. I promised him.”

“The only one we have is the honeymoon suite,” The man stammered.

“Good, we’ll take it,” Derek nodded.

“For how many nights?”

“Just for today,” Derek stated.

The concierge’s eyes narrowed, “No prostitutes.”

“He’s my husband!” They both snapped.

Derek added, “I’m a trucker. He’s my mate. I’ve got a load to deliver and he had a bad day. I promised him a hot tub.”

Stiles snickered and Derek glared at him, “What? You said load!”

“It’s been _two months_ of that joke and… you know what? Just for that, no sex. We’re soaking and spending time talking.”

“That’s so weird,” Stiles shook his head, “That’s totally my line.”

Derek frowned, “You’ve been doing too _much_ talking and now we’ve got to even the playing field.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Stiles sighed.

“Not a bit,” Derek replied, accepting the keys and heading for the elevator, “But you’re going to _love_ the hot tub.”


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles _did_ love the hot tub. Probably too much judging by the way Derek’s eyes widened as Stiles moaned and sank into the water. He’d showered with Derek scrubbing him almost violently before letting him sink up to his ears in the bubbles.

“Oh my gods, I can see why people assumed this would trigger heats,” Stiles whimpered, “I’m going to divorce you and marry this hot tub. We’re going to have little clawfoot tub babies.”

Derek chuckled, “I think that might inhibit your political career.”

“Mm,” Stiles hummed, “A lack of wifi is inhibiting my political career.”

“I’ll look into it after the next stop,” Derek replied, “ _Speaking_ of the next stop, after your ‘me time’ I want some ‘me time’.”

“Is that code for masturbation or are you asking for the hot tub next? Because this _is_ a couples tub.”

“I’ll be joining you soon, but what I meant was that I want some time with… ah…” Derek’s words ran out so Stiles sat up and turned towards him, propping his arms up on the edge and putting his chin on top.

“What are you saying here?” Stiles asked with narrowed eyes.

“I have a… friend… who I see. She understands me in a _not_ sexual way.”

“A lot lizard,” Stiles deadpanned, “Who you dish to like a girlfriend but who you don’t have naughty times with.”

“Glad we understand each other,” Derek replied.

“Yeah, except for the part where you _don’t_ dish to me.”

“I just confessed about my sister’s incestuous ambitions to breed me,” Derek grunted, “I get to cuddle with a pro.”

“There will be _cuddling_?” Stiles asked.

“How’s that hot tub?” Derek grumbled pointedly.

“Getting frigid, to be honest,” Stiles huffed.

“Just enjoy it,” Derek replied, “I’m going to get some more sleep. We have to make our point tonight.”

Derek stood up and left the room rather than sleep and Stiles extended his hearing to the next room of their suite where he was talking softly into the phone.

“Hey, where can we meet? … Yeah, I know, but it’s urgent. … Compensation? Seriously? … Fucking hell, fine. Yeah. No, I get that. One other thing, uh, uh, I have a mate now.”

Stiles could _hear_ the shriek of excitement from the phone that Derek angrily threw across the room before stomping back into the room with Stiles. He stripped off his clothes and threw himself down on the bed with an exasperated groan. A few seconds later and he let out a low groan of a different type.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked.

“No offense- because loving the mate thing- but I really fucking miss being able to lie on my back.”

“I always slept on my side, but you’re kind of roasting hot so I’m feeling the need for personal space, too.”

“This is going to last, right?” Derek mumbled.

“Um, yeah,” Stiles replied, “I kind of can’t leave and you’ve finally opened up to me, so…”

“But do you _want_ it to? Because I’ll find you-“

“Fucking _stop_ ,” Stiles snapped, “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to. This is lasting.”

“I’m going to upgrade the truck.”

“You mentioned.”

“Before you’re trained,” Derek added.

“Ah,” Stiles shifted around and let himself float a bit, “So you’re making a commitment to me and my happiness. This isn’t just you saving me, you’re planning a future.”

“Yeah, this is me planning a future,” Derek stated sharply, and then paused for a moment and took in a stuttering breath, “I have a _future_.”

“That’s my line,” Stiles smiled fondly, “May I correct you by saying _we_ have a future?”

“We,” Derek sighed contentedly.


	9. Chapter 9

While pick ups were more strain and frustration, the drop off was always managed to be more hectic. This was mostly because Derek became anxious and snarly an hour from the drop sight even if they were _ahead_ of schedule. After only two months traveling with his mate Stiles was starting to notice that the alpha was a stickler for being on time or ahead even if it didn’t always work out that way. He was also incredibly stingy with sex the day before a delivery and since some deliveries only took a _day_ that meant he was furious _and_ denying Stiles sex for lengthy periods of time. Now that Stiles had experienced fucking outside of heat his hand didn’t feel quite the same and the schedule was starting to put a strain on them.

“We’re going to be on _time_ ,” Stiles soothed.

“I know.”

“Then calm the fuck down,” Stiles pleaded.

“It’s my job to worry about the load, Stiles.”

“Hehe, load,” Stiles snickered.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Seriously, though. We’re an _hour away_. It’s going to be _fine_.”

“I know!” Derek snarled.

“Music?”

“No!”

“Blow job?”

Derek grumbled irritably without actually forming words and Stiles started to shift to his knees.

“Don’t.”

“Oh, come on. You’re tense as hell, and seeing as how I’ve driven in your lap about ten times now I’d say you’re not worried about getting pulled over for road head, so…”

“You suck,” Derek spat out, pushing at Stiles’ forehead, “Buckle back up.”

“Those two sentences are NOT congruent.”

“You suck _at blow jobs_ ,” Derek replied sharply.

“I… oh,” Stiles scrambled back up into the seat, his face flushing brilliantly, “Um. Okay. Yeah. Virgin as of two months ago, remember? You could maybe teach me?”

Derek shook his head silently.

“Okay,” Stiles snapped, starting to turn sour, “Then maybe your prostitute friend could.”

“No good,” Derek shook his head, “Men are better at blowjobs than women are. We need to-“

Stiles’ phone rang and Stiles shut it off quickly, “Sorry, go on.”

“Who keeps calling you?”

“It’s no one. So, a male prostitute? Do you, like, just not know one?”

“I preferred women until… a while ago… then I went without for a while just… being on my own… healing…”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles nodded, “That makes sense.”

“Anyway, I’m sure she could recommend someone or something,” Derek rumbled, blushing with embarrassment, “Sorry for… you know… saying…”

Stiles shook his head, “No, I need to know that. It’s important we communicate and if you’re not getting what you need from me than I _want_ you to tell me.”

Stiles’ phone rang again and he hit the end button again.

“Seriously. Who keeps calling you?”

“ _No one!”_

“It’s not your dad. You’d answer and snark him. It’s how you two work.”

“See, this is why I love you. You’re smart _and_ sexy,” Stiles replied, hoping to throw him off.

Derek went silent, and not just in that way that he was normally a silent hulk of muscle and bone. He went ‘Danger Will Robinson!’ silent. Stiles replayed their conversation for triggers and strongly considered slapping himself.

“It’s fine,” Stiles told him gently, “I’m not going to hurt you and you don’t have to love me back. Like. Ever. Okay? Maybe in time you will, but you aren’t required to say it just because I did. I was mostly joking anyway. Like, I do really, _really_ like you, but I’m pretty unfamiliar with love and am maybe jumping the gun, you know?”

“It’s fine,” Derek replied with a sigh, “You don’t have to walk on eggshells with me.”

“Don’t I? You’re like, traumatized.”

“I’m dealing,” Derek gave him a caustic glance, “Everyone has issues, Stiles. Mine are just a bit more horrible than most, but I’m dealing. I was dealing before we met and I’m dealing now. I have off moments, but I’m _fine_.”

“Yeah, ‘a bit more horrible’, like your ex prostituting you and murdering your family when they tried to put a stop to it, and then your sister-.”

“Figured out the murder angle, did you?” Derek grumbled.

“I put two and two together, yeah.”

“My _pimp_ , not my ex,” Derek corrected sharply, “and you could help me most by _not_ summing up my horrible history every few days.”

“Sorry,” Stiles huffed, “I just keep waiting for you to reveal more, you know? I mean, you’ve got all this angst backed up like a faulty colon.”

“Fucking hell, Stiles,” Derek grimaced, “Imagery much?”

“Clogged motor?”

“Better, but no less cringe-worthy. Seriously, there’s nothing else. Stop pouring salt on it.”

“Why’s your truck named Catherine?”

“Do you just _live_ in left field?” Derek huffed.

“Where’d that saying even come from? Coming out of left field?”

“I don’t know, I’ll get you wifi so you can google it _after this run_ , okay? Fucking hell, Stiles!”

“We’re getting wifi?!” Stiles crowed and bounced in his seat.

“Anything to stop you from making me crazy,” Derek snapped, “Honestly, why aren’t you playing video games right now? We already had our driving lesson. You’ve read three books. This keeps up and I’m going to be guilty of murder for _real_.”

“Catherine?”

Derek sighed, “A movie.”

“You watch movies Mr. Anti-TV?! Why didn’t you tell me! Dish. All the favorite movies, starting with ‘Catherine’.”

“It’s called _A Monster In Paris_ and there’s this eccentric delivery guy who modified his vehicle _well_ past the age’s technical advancements. He had it running on sunflower seed oil and remote controlled and… the vehicle’s name was Catherine.”

“Oh my gods, you’re the cutest little trucker geek ever, can I keep you?”

“Yes,” Derek blushed and squirmed a bit.

“Aww, Derek’s got a praise kink.”

“It’s not a kink, I just like it more when you’re admiring me than digging for more drama.”

“Ugh. Fine. No more drama!” Stiles huffed.

Derek pulled up to the warehouse and Stiles climbed into the back to quickly put his chastity belt on. He placed the key in one of their cubbies and climbed out of the truck. Derek was already talking to the clerk so Stiles headed to the back to start unloading. He grabbed himself a handcart, checked the roster and numbers on the totes, and started hauling them out. He wheeled the first stack inside and asked a passing clerk where they went. A vague gesture let him know where to go and he started lining them up. Derek returned looking pissed off.

“This asshat wants to know why we can’t deliver Pront-go’s products as well.”

“We don’t work for Pront-go,” Stiles stated patiently, “We work for Beacon’s Freight.”

“That’s what I told him! Apparently they deliver the cold goods for them and they want to know why our truck can’t do that.”

“Our truck isn’t refrigerated.”

“That’s what I said!” Derek ranted angrily, waving his clipboard around, “He wants to know why we can’t just pack it with ice. Do you believe that?! Pack it with _ice_?”

“That’s… a new one,” Stiles paused, leaning against the handcart.

“Don’t do that,” Derek pointed at it, “Safety first.”

“First, you suck. Second, you’re adorable. Third, don’t let them get to you. We probably annoy them as much as they annoy us. We both just need to do our jobs and get on our way. When’s our next pick up?”

Derek’s eyes flew to his beloved clipboard case just as Stiles had expected and his anger dissipated in expectation of his next run. Derek loved what he did and it showed as he started plotting out their next trip. The ones made frequently he had the roads all memorized for, but there were infrequent ones and Derek had a few regular long hauls that came up twice a year. Derek lived to talk traffic patterns and rest stop virtues, a quality Stiles found adorable when he could manage to get his husband _actually talking_ rather than just responding or dwelling inside his head or books. They finished unloading together, signed off on the paperwork after Stiles troubleshooted their glitchy scanner, and headed out with an empty truck.

“Remember, drive carefully,” Derek told Stiles as he tapped his lap once climbing into the driver’s seat, “We’re light in the back end, which is worse than being without a semi-trailer because you’ve got-“

“A swinging back end, I _know_ ,” Stiles whined, “You’ve told me a thousand times.”

“And I’ll tell you a thousand more until you get your CDL, log your hours, and pass the requirements to be a full time employee,” Derek stated firmly.

“I love it when you’re bossy,” Stiles wiggled into his lap.

“Don’t do that,” Derek growled.

“But you haven’t put out for _days_!” Stiles whined.

“I was _never_ this horny as an omega,” Derek grumbled.

“I’m special.”

“I noticed,” Derek snorted, “We’ll fuck before we sleep, okay?”

Derek stroked Stiles’ hip and he wriggled in anticipation only to still when an unfamiliar sound echoed through the cab.

“The fuck?” Stiles asked reaching for his phone and groping Derek along the way, “Oh, is that yours? You never get calls.”

Derek ignored him and answered the phone he usually kept sitting in one of the many hidden cubbies in their cab.

“What?” Derek grunted, “Why? Fine.”

Derek hung up and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, “Who was that?”

“The woman I was telling you about,” Derek replied with a scowl, “She changed our meeting place. Said she wants me to treat her to a hotel. We usually just meet in the sleeper, but she feels it will be too crowded with you here.”

“M’kay,” Stiles nodded, “I can see her point… assuming I’d be here. I sort of thought you’d belt me in and leave me at an arcade or something.”

Derek grumbled a bit and shook his head, “I don’t want you wondering what happened afterwards. This is going to be awkward for both of us, but you’re already a nosey little shit so I’d rather you just saw from the door. I don’t want you feeling the need to challenge her or this harming our relationship.”

“M’kay,” Stiles shrugged, “I appreciate the full disclosure thing. Speaking of full disclosure, what about our sex happening?”

“Yes, we’ll have sex. Geez. Just not with _her_.”

“Well, thanks for clearing that up!” Stiles scoffed, “Yeah, not so much into anyone else, thanks!”

“Good,” Derek nodded, and then paused, “But if you were…”

“I’d tell you before doing anything, but I’d definitely not do anything in the first place because _we’re married_. Insecure much?”

“I meant I understand if you want to experiment,” Derek rolled his eyes, “You didn’t get any options before me so I get that it’s important, it’s just that if you _do_ , than you’ll have to do it without me around. I won’t be able to stop myself from attacking anyone who touches you. Instinct.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “Not going to happen, but thanks for giving me options. That’s cool of you.”

Derek seemed to relax and Stiles shook his head in amusement. It took another ten minutes of driving before Derek had Stiles pull off at a _very_ expensive hotel. Derek was fuming mad, growling about expenses and how he wasn’t going to pay her a dime if he had to pay for her fancy ass room. They headed into the lobby to the sneer of those around them and Derek looked around himself with a frown. A beautiful young woman with long, curly strawberry blonde hair was walking towards them at a pace that stilted Stiles’ breath. She strode forward, not hurrying nor leisurely, but powerful and with each step the people around her were driven to distraction. Intelligence and disdain scalded any who looked her in the eyes and Stiles reached out to grip Derek’s arm as she cast her smoldering gaze onto them.

“Stop whimpering,” Derek scoffed, “She might not be a werewolf but she can smell fear.”

“So when you said I could experiment…” Stiles whined.

“Not with _her_ ,” Derek replied with teeth tightly clenched.

The woman had gotten close enough to hear them so rather than argue Stiles grinned from ear to ear and tried to throw out a compliment.

“Well, hello, beautiful! I’m Stiles and… you’re ignoring me right now.”

The woman walked _well_ into Derek’s personal space and put her thumb on his chin with her index finger wrapped beneath it to study his face as he smiled openly at her. He still had an arm around Stiles’ shoulder but Stiles might as well have been across the room. They were in their own world as she tilted his head from side to side and then stepped back to look him over. When she made a gesture he released Stiles and obliged her by turning around to give her a full view.

“Hm,” The woman stated in a melodic voice, “Marriage suits you. Follow me.”

Derek’s arm went back around Stiles’ shoulder and he strode after her with that powerful gate of his that had Stiles hurrying to keep up. The woman before him had a perfect figure and he wasn’t above checking her out despite Derek’s warning growl. Lydia entered an elevator that seemed to open up just for her- the timing was just right due to those disembarking but the way they scurried out of her way sure made it look intentional- and spun around to pose with her hip jutting out. Derek entered the elevator and turned in place, switching the arm he had around Stiles. When he noted his idiot mate was still facing the wrong way he spun him around sharply and rested his arm back around his shoulders.

“Oh my gods, you are so far out of my league. What are you even doing with me?” Stiles wheezed.

“An excellent question,” Lydia replied dryly.

“Ouch,” Stiles winced.

Derek snorted in amusement but didn’t defend Stiles, which was not much of a surprise considering their teasing relationship. It seemed he was about to have a similar relationship with Lydia the Non-Sexual Prostitute.

They arrived on the fifth floor and Lydia led them to the room she’d rented out, sliding her card in the entrance and flinging the door open. She sashayed inside and sat herself down on the edge of the bed with absolute poise and grace. Derek walked in after her with his usual commanding stride and Stiles staggered after him like a fool. Then Derek went stiff and growled deeply. He was glaring at someone further into the room who was still hidden from Stiles by the bathroom wall.

“The fuck are you doing here?!” Derek snarled, putting a hand back behind him to stop Stiles from coming forward.

_Shit, shit, shit, I’m not wearing my belt!_

“Relax, Derek,” A man’s voice cooed out. It sounded so slimy that Stiles’ skin crawled, “Aren’t you happy to see your dear uncle?”

“Fucking hell, Lydia, you _sold me out!”_

“Oh, please,” Lydia waved a hand in dismissal, “As if you could keep that little secret for long. Come on, little omega. Come meet your master’s master. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed but Derek had shifted slightly to one side, and gestured for him to come closer. Stiles moved forward, caution making him more graceful than usual, and pressed into Derek’s side with a glare in the direction of the smarmy man standing by the bedside table. He looked a bit like Derek if Derek had decided to be a pedophile and were a few decades older. He was leering at Stiles as if he’d rather he were naked. Stiles lowered his chin defiantly, refusing to look submissive before this man who Derek was so defensive around.

“Look at him, Derek,” Peter drawled, “Just _look_ at him! All that spunk and sensuality, why I can’t imagine you with anyone else.”

“Thanks,” Derek replied snidely.

“I have to say, anyone who can convince _my_ nephew to settle down must be pretty special. He’s always complained about how omegas smell like paper to him.”

“Paper?” Stiles glanced sideways at Derek.

“An aftereffect of him being born an omega, no doubt,” Peter replied, gliding forward, “Alphas are usually born as alphas or inherited from betas, not omegas. That’s why he prefers betas.”

Stiles glanced at Lydia, clearly an omega who Derek cuddled and used as a therapist, apparently.

“M’kay,” Stiles nodded, “Why are you here?”

“To make sure my precious alpha has the mate he needs and deserves, of course,” Peter replied.

“And to fuck me,” Lydia replied, filing her nails and looking completely unconcerned about the conversation, “He loves to do that.”

“Truer words…” Peter sighed, giving her a covetous glance.

“She’s here for _me_ today,” Derek growled, “Fuck off, and stay away from my mate.”

“I’m not the alpha anymore,” Peter pouted dramatically, “I can hardly claim him for my own.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t molest him when you have the chance,” Derek snarled.

“Hah!” Stiles jumped up and down, accidentally stepping on Derek’s foot, “I _knew_ there was more trauma!”

“What trauma?” Derek snapped, “There’s no more trauma!”

“You know about Derek’s _trauma_?” Lydia asked, looking directly at Stiles for the first time.

“I… uh… duhn… uh…” Stiles stammered, completely undone by her fiery gaze.

“What do you know?” Peter asked, moving forward again at the same moment Lydia stood up like a cobra rising from a basket.

Derek growled and shoved Stiles behind him, “He’s _mine_.”

“No one is taking your pretty little toy away,” Peter rolled his eyes, “We aren’t kids anymore, Derek.”

“You _weren’t_ a kid,” Derek snarled, “You were an adult who liked to fuck with my head!”

“More _trauma!”_ Stiles sing-songed.

“No more trauma!” Derek raged, “He didn’t molest me. I’m worried about him doing that to _you_ because Peter sees everyone as his toy!”

“Except you, uh huh,” Stiles replied in tones of disbelief.

Derek growled angrily and Lydia tittered in amusement, “Okay, I’ve decided I like him, honey.”

Stiles clapped happily and bounced on his toes, causing Derek to inch away to avoid being stepped on again.

“Ohmygosh, this is going to be awesome! I’ll be Tulio, Derek will be Miguel, and you’ll be the _beautiful_ and _loquacious_ Chel, and our next truck will totally be Altivo!!”

“What are you dosing him with?” Peter asked in complete confusion.

“You’re so totally Tzekel-Kan,” Stiles decided, nodding it Peter’s direction.

“He’s like this naturally,” Derek replied, “For the record, I’m nothing like Miguel.”

“Yes!” Stiles punched the air, “You _have_ seen more movies than you’re letting on!”

“No, he’s more like the horse,” Peter mused, “What was his name again?”

“Altivo,” Stiles supplied, “Hey, Chel, do you seriously let this creeper touch you?”

“Don’t call me Chel,” Lydia countered, “I’m a goddess, not a cartoon.”

“She’s a temple prostitute.”

“Hm,” Lydia reconsidered, “Attractive?”

“ _Glorious_.”

“Chel it is. Derek, our usual tonight? Or will cutie pie here be joining us?”

“Peter _leaves first_ ,” Derek ground out through clenched teeth.

“Fine,” Peter sighed, “A pleasure seeing you as always, my dear nephew.”

“The pleasure was all yours,” Stiles replied, waving at him jovially.

“He really _is_ ,” Peter chuckled, “Perfect for you. Oh, and speaking of perfect for you… I have a wedding present for my dear nephew.”

“Hm,” Derek grunted, glaring at him.

Peter held out a set of keys dangling on one finger, “I’ll recycle Catherine to a new recruit, of course. Just… trade her in at the next depot.”

“You… what?” Derek snatched the keys from his hands, “What is this? What is this to?”

“Well, you can’t raise cubs in the cab of a single sleeper!” Peter scoffed, “It’s past time you upgraded.”

“You’ve been talking to Malia,” Derek glared at him.

“My darling daughter doesn’t tell me shit,” Peter frowned, a spark of anger in his eyes, “My assumption was my own.”

“We’re not having kids,” Stiles informed him.

“Sure you’re not,” Peter scoffed, “That’s why when I checked Derek’s medical insurance you were added onto his policy but did _not_ have birth control prescribed to you.”

“We haven’t had time,” Derek fussed.

“You had time to get him a tattoo,” Lydia replied, back to filing her nails.

“How’d you know that?” Stiles asked, “It’s covered.”

“I do my research,” Lydia replied, “You two have left a trail of breadcrumbs from Beacon Hills to here.”

“So,” Peter smirked, “You look over those three trucks, pick one, and leave the keys for the other two with Danny. I’m sure one of them will be to your liking. After all, only the best for my alpha.”

Peter reached out and pinched Derek’s cheek, which earned him a flash of red eyes and a threatening growl. Stiles giggled and snuggled into Derek’s side as the alpha held him tightly in one muscular arm. Peter smarmed his way right out the door with a sassy sway of his hips and left them with a not-so-subtle wink before shutting it behind him.

“Well, that was exhausting,” Lydia sighed, “You can stop posturing now, dear. Daddy is gone. It’s just you and mommy now.”

“Um…” Stiles stammered.

“Stiles, this is the part where you sit down and _quietly_ observe,” Derek stated firmly, “Don’t- and I mean DO NOT- interfere or mock this. Got it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles nodded and headed quickly for an easy chair, “Sitting quietly and not mocking.”

“Good,” Derek replied, “Because this is _healthy_ for me. This is how I deal. Got it?”

“Got it. No judging the dealing,” Stiles nodded quickly, crossing his legs and gesturing at Derek to get on with it.

Lydia was unbuttoning her flowing, silk, cream blouse and kicking off her shoes. She slid up the bed and laid down with her breasts bare and reached for Derek with a beguiling smile.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

Derek crawled across the bed and lay across her, pressing his face to soft flesh and nuzzling in. Stiles couldn’t deny the excitement he felt as Derek suckled at her breasts, but this was clearly anything but sexual for Derek. Lydia petted his hair and smiled down at him as he looked up at her and occasionally nuzzled in harder. The scent of milk reached his nose and Stiles realized with a jolt of shock that Lydia was lactating. Unless it was chemically induced that meant she’d had a child at some point. Derek switched breasts and Lydia cooed sweetly to him, encouraging to keep eating.

“My sweet baby boy,” Lydia soothed, “You’ve had such a hard run. Even having to call me early! That’s it. Drink up. Momma’s milk makes it all better.”

Stiles’ erection was dwindling as he took in the scene more fully. It wasn’t what he’d expected, and as gorgeous as the two people before him were the moment wasn’t erotic. It was sweet and tender. Derek finished nursing and shifted down to lay his head on her belly as she rubbed his back firmly in an approximation of winding him. He obliged and Stiles snorted at the soft belch but a glare from Lydia shut him right up.

They rolled onto their sides after that, with Lydia’s blouse draping over her breasts as Derek lay beside her on the bed. Stiles listened in amazement as he softly told her everything that had happened to him from the time he saw her last. At first it was just about work, but then Stiles came into the picture and he got to hear the story of their odd romance from Derek’s perspective. All of it revolved around how deeply depressed Derek had gotten, how he couldn’t stand the thought of running their pack properly once Peter stepped down.

“I was sure I’d never be ready,” Derek confessed, “Then he just… fell out of the tree and stared at me like I was dinner and… I guess it was instinct. He smelled good to me. Like fries or mashed potatoes.”

“How… comforting,” Lydia decided, wrinkling her nose a bit.

“Yeah,” Derek nodded, rubbing her silken blouse between his fingers, “He didn’t want things to be… typical. He wanted to break the rules. Change the status quo. And he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. His way or the highway.”

“And we all know you love the highway,” Lydia smiled.

“Yeah, so… so I accepted. I… I acted like an omega so he could play the role of alpha.”

“And role playing,” Lydia laughed lightly.

“Yeah,” Derek smiled up at her, open and relaxed like Stiles had never seen him before, “It was weird and my instincts were a pain in the ass, but I gave him what he needed and when he went belly up for me… _gods_ , Lydia. Sex was never that good before.”

“Mm, you can’t exactly knot a pro.”

“No, nor could I _get_ knotted by one often enough when I was an omega. All those years unfulfilled… And nothing is the same now. He’s smart, Lydia. He gives me actual hope for a future. I can be his guardian while he runs the business.”

“Is that what you want, sweety?” Lydia asked in concern.

“Yes,” Derek breathed, “The strain, all the worry, the fear that I’d mislead everyone and ruin or even end lives again… he’s so sure and confident and brilliant… it’s perfect, momma.”

“Whatever makes you happy, my love,” Lydia cooed, giving Stiles another appraising glance.

“You’re okay with this, then?”

“Of course!” Lydia replied, with a warm smile, “Anything for my beautiful boy.”

Derek snuggled in tightly, holding her against himself and relaxed so completely that Stiles started to suspect he was asleep right up his internal clock set him moving again. Derek pulled away, sat up, stretched until his bones cracked, and reached into his pocket for a thick envelope.

“Thanks, Lydia,” Derek stated, “I’ll see you in a month?”

“Or whenever,” She nodded, opening the envelope and peaking at the bills inside.

“Love you, momma.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” Lydia waved lazily as Derek stood up and strode towards Stiles.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Stiles replied softly.

They left the room, Derek shutting the door behind them on Lydia’s relaxed figure, and Derek stiffened up again immediately.

“You worried about Peter?” Stiles asked, sniffing the air curiously, “I don’t smell him, but you know his scent better-“

“Just get it over with,” Derek snapped harshly.

“What?” Stiles blinked at him.

“The ridicule,” Derek gestured at the closed door.

“What… of that?” Stiles waved as well, “Not happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not mocking you for that. You clearly needed it. It was good for you. If that’s the kind of therapy you go for, have at it. I fully support you.”

“You… you do?” Derek looked completely shocked, his little bunny teeth visible as he gaped at Stiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied, pushing his chin to close his mouth, “But you forgot to ask her for a referral for my BJ lessons.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “I’ll text her later. You really won’t bring this up and mock me about it?”

“Nope,” Stiles shook his head, “In fact, I feel a whole lot better about everything now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve been laboring under the assumption that I’m the _first_ person you told, but that’s clearly not true. Peter knows because he was there, but Lydia’s been your shrink for… years?”

“Yeah, a few.”

“Okay,” Stiles nodded, “Then we’re good.”

“Just like that, we’re good?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “You need to talk you can talk to me, otherwise I won’t get in the way of you and Lydia.”

“Well… that’s… good,” Derek nodded, “What about the…”

Derek pointed to one of his own nipples and Stiles smirked, “Oh yeah, that. See… I’m totally envious so I can’t exactly mock you for it.”

“Hm,” Derek nodded, “Maybe she’ll let you join that part.”

“Oh my gods, I’d totally ruin my pants. I can’t.”

“Really?” Derek wrinkled up his nose, “You think that’s sexy?”

“Completely, and I do _not_ want things weird between Lydia, you, and I. Clearly this is important shit. I’m not fucking things up with my mother-in-law.”

Derek halted Stiles as he was about to walk away, wrapped an arm around his waist, and pulled him in for a long, intimate kiss. Stiles was breathless when he released the young man’s lips again and simply stared up at him with his lips parted and pliant.

“I do love you,” Derek replied softly.

“Oh, wow,” Stiles blushed, “You too, Der.”

“Let’s go,” Derek told him, “I want to christen our new truck.”

“That was _exactly_ what I was thinking!” Stiles squealed.


	10. Chapter 10

Derek parked in the Depot and hurried into the office with the keys twirling on one finger. Stiles was excitedly stuffing things into laundry and trash bags. When Derek returned a moment later he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Peter’s an ass, but he does actually care. He picked out three _amazing_ models for us.”

“Oh my gods!” Stiles shrieked, “Do I have to wear my belt?”

“No, just come on,” Derek gestured eagerly, “I’ll stay with you the whole time and with any luck one of these will have a bathroom and we can chuck that belt in the fucking trash!”

Stiles followed him to the first truck and whimpered in joy at the bright blue chrome. They entered the cab to find plush leather seats in light grey, wooden trim, and a console with a brand new GPS system. Stiles stroked it lovingly while Derek climbed into the back.

“Stiles you _need_ to see this,” Derek growled.

Stiles turned the passenger seat around and stood up, staring at what looked like a square couch. To the left was a small fridge with a small counter. Two squares on the counter flipped up to reveal two burners and a sink. On the right were four cabinets, one of them large enough to hang clothes in and the other containing a small toilet with a shower head above it. The ‘wetbath’ Derek had told him about. A shelf above the counter held a dvd player and small flatscreen TV along with the beautiful wifi modem.

“Oh gods, yes,” Stiles moaned, standing up and stroking it lovingly, “Wait, where’s the bed?”

“The couch folds out,” Derek pulled on the bottom and it slid down into a full sized bed, “There’s storage underneath and some above.”

“Cool, but it looks sort of uncomfortable,” Stiles flopped down in it and wriggled around, “Feels uncomfortable, too. If we weren’t converting it into a sofa we could put a mat on it, but… kinda defeats the purpose.”

“Okay, moving on,” Derek decided.

They headed for the next truck, which was a basic white but contained a veritable palace inside. It had two bunks on one side rather than a full bed and a full kitchen on the other. The back wall held a door into another room that held two more cots- one that became a sofa- a closet, and a full bathroom with a separate toilet and shower. They backed away from the implication of children as quickly as possible with Derek muttering about sleeping separately as if it were a foul slur.

The third was a candy apple red truck with more wooden trim. The cabinets were gorgeous cherry wood but again no bed was in sight. Instead they were greeted with a full kitchen complete with dinette to the back. The kitchen was on the left with a fair sized fridge a step above mini. To the right of the entrance were two cabinets, one of which was a wetbath and the other with enough space for both their sparce wardrobes. There was storage above the dinette in a U-shaped bend of closed cabinets that clicked almost soundlessly into place with the touch of a recessed button. Stiles found the bed. It was above the dinette, inside what looked like a wall with a decorative bit of modern art on it. Derek didn’t like the art but Stiles had plans for that spot already. Stiles folded the dinette table down, unlatched the wall to the back, and folded a queen-sized bed down. The seats to the dinette became the head and footer of the bed. Stiles climbed in and stretched out on the firm mattress, sighing in bliss. Derek climbed up with him and stretched out to try the size. Stiles located a recessed nook with space for odds and ends while they were lying in bed. It was inside the closet and was just the right height for when inside the bed. Derek sat up and located the TV above the fridge. It swiveled out of a cabinet and behind it was the coveted wifi modem.

“Derek, if you love me you’ll get this one for me.”

Derek nodded, a curious look on his face, “He’s going to be drawing conclusions about our relationship based on which one we take.”

“Who cares? I’m loving this! It’s soooo big and open! Can my game systems fit inside that cabinet?”

“Probably in the one next to it if we don’t bother with a lot of dishes. Go inside and fill out the paperwork. You know where the registration info is in Catherine. I’ll start moving our things in here.”

“Oh, muscles,” Stiles moaned, rubbing his arm flirtatiously, “I’m all over that paperwork. You going to be okay giving up Catherine?”

Stiles paused, waiting for more man-pain. Derek huffed in amusement, “It’s just a truck. I mean, I called it home, but now I’m trading up.”

Derek gave Stiles a lingering glance and the omega blushed, realizing he was talking about more than just the vehicle. Stiles hurried out the door and Derek watched him head first to Catherine and then to the office with the paperwork. Stiles gave him a wave to let him know he was safe and headed in to talk to a dark skinned man with eyes that Stiles immediately labeled ‘deep’. Also, a bit intense.

“Um, hi… Deaton,” Stiles read the man’s name tag, “We’re here to pick a new truck out.”

“Ah, I see you chose Roscoe,” Deaton smiled.

“Roscoe?” Stiles blinked down at the paperwork, “That some sort of model, or…?”

“No, that’s the truck’s name,” Deaton replied with a soft smile.

“Oh, um… did you name it or…? Because I’m not sure how Derek will feel about…”

“He’ll be fine with it,” Deaton replied in a sure tone, “Sign here and here, and make sure you two take good care of him.”

“Um… yeah,” Stiles nodded, filling out the paperwork and signing both their names without hesitation. He was married. He was allowed to.

“You’ll need this, as well,” The man replied, and handed Stiles a folder.

“Thanks,” Stiles opened it and blinked in surprise at a CDL application and a few brochures for classes in the area, “Oh! Thanks!”

“Derek tends to move at his own pace. If it were up to him he’d be living in a tent somewhere off the land. It’s up to us to keep him focused… healthy… moving forward.”

“Thanks, Rafiki, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That’s racist,” He stated blandly, still smiling as he turned to type something on the computer.

“Right… sorry… just gonna… go now,” Stiles bolted and headed back to _their new truck!!!_

Stiles walked in on an absolute disaster. Derek had dumped all their things down on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, ripped the plastic off of the bed, and was rubbing himself all over the driver’s seat.

“Um… you okay?”

“Smells wrong.”

“Smells new.”

“Smells _wrong_.”

“Okay, you’re not going to… like… piss on it, are you?” Stiles worried, “Because I’m not for that, okay? Eventually, in time, with us sitting on the seats and farting and wiping off boogers, like it will _naturally_ be funky. You don’t have to hurry that along.”

Derek pulled off his shirt and tried rubbing his armpit on the headrest.

“Well, that was almost attractive,” Stiles snorted.

“Why does this not bother you?”

“I like new truck smells.”

Derek paused and glared at him, “When you’re trying to _sleep?”_

Stiles flashed to the daytime when he’d have to lie in an unfamiliar place full of unfamiliar sounds and try to rest in a limited amount of time before their next run.

“Fuck. Hang on, maybe we can work up a sweat… oh! Christening! Those are less gross bodily fluids! We fuck in the bed an smear our… sweat and stuff… everywhere.”

“ _That’s_ why I love you,” Derek decided, wading through their crap to get to the bed, “Get over here and ride my dick.”

Stiles scrambled to lock the door, pull the curtains, and scoot into the back with him, but Derek was asking questions instead of getting with the nasty.

“You got the next trailer lined up?”

“Yes.”

“Our load needs to be dropped off in two days. We have to double time it.”

“No sleep after fucking. Got it,” Stiles stripped and climbed up on Derek’s thick thighs, “Oh gods, you’re like a freaking truck yourself. I’m going to ride your gearshift so-“

“Stiles!” Derek snapped.

“Right, no dirty talk.”

“Yes, dirty talk. No, _weird_ dirty talk.”

“I read the specs on this truck,” Stiles purred as he reached back to finger himself, “It can pull three trailers, Derek. _Three_.”

“Fine. Weird dirty talk it is. Turn around,” Derek growled, eyes flashing, “I’m going to eat pit your ass.”

“Fuck,” Stiles whined, and then pulled himself regretfully away, “Let me wash up.”

“Piss in the shower!” Derek ordered.

“I hate you!” Stiles called back, but when he got into the shower and turned it on he did indeed have an urge to mark the walls. Stiles swore angrily as he pissed along the walls and then washed it down. He knew he was being ridiculous, but it was instinct plain and simple.

When Stiles returned Derek already had a partial knot popped and was rubbing himself along the headrest of the bed. Stiles climbed up and turned around, presenting his ass for Derek’s perusal. Derek let out a low sigh of approval and gripped both globes of Stiles’ ass. Stiles was proud of his bubble butt. It was pert and round and Derek grabbed it all the time as if he just couldn’t resist. Now he blew on Stiles’ damp pucker gently and began to lap along the edge just outside of the most sensitive areas.

“Fuck, Derek,” Stiles growled, “It’s been _days.”_

“You know some people go months-“

“Fuck. Those. People.”

Derek dove in properly, lathing Stiles’ hole as he moaned and pushed back against Derek’s hungry mouth. His nerves lit up like firecrackers as Derek moaned against his backside and flicked his tongue fast across Stiles’ sensitive flesh. Stiles gasped and hummed in approval, one hand moving down to tease at his hardening dick. Derek is deep into him, tongue fucking Stiles’ hole as it opened up for him. Stiles’ body shifted to sex mode, his muscles inside flexing and shifting his organs about. Stiles was dripping wet now, his fluids drenching Derek’s chin as his natural lubricant slicked the way. Derek devoured him with eager slurping sounds and Stiles gave his weeping cock a few kitten licks to spur him on. Derek’s hips twitched and he gave up on foreplay with a groan of frustration. He pushed at Stiles’ hips and moved him down his torso. Stiles went to turn but Derek was deep in lust and not ready to give him an ounce of control despite Stiles being on top. He groped Stiles’ ass liberally and humped against his thigh before letting out a frustrated growl and tapping his hip.

“Time to learn how to give me a proper blow job,” Derek growled, “Turn around.”

“What? Really?” Stiles obeyed but looked confused, “Where’s Lydia’s tutor?”

“Just want you,” Derek shook his head, teeth emerging before he took a slow breath and pulled them in, “I’ll teach you. I don’t want anyone else involved.”

Stiles smiled softly, “That’s… actually sweet, you trusting me for a change.”

“I’m trying,” Derek shrugged, “Okay, give me your finger. First lesson.”

Derek sucked at Stiles’ finger, pulling his lips over his cute bunny teeth and making what Stiles decided was a silly face. He giggled at him but Derek pulled back and glared.

“Porn is unrealistic, Stiles. When you give head you grate me with your teeth and choke yourself. Believe it or not, choking on my dick isn’t that nice a feeling for _either_ of us. They do that open mouth thing for looks in pornos, but in reality your lips _need_ to be over at least your top teeth. The bottom you can cushion with your tongue, but you _need_ to be blocking your fucking teeth!”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles nodded, “I get it. Do the tongue thing again?”

Derek swirled his tongue around the tip of Stiles’ finger and then sucked it down while moving his tongue around the tip slowly and then dragging it down the bottom. Stiles shivered in anticipation of what that would feel like. He was so inexperienced still that he went off like a shot when they fucked. Derek had only sucked him off when they were too tired to rut.

“Okay, between my legs,” Derek told him, ignoring Stiles’ eyebrow waggling, “Take me in slowly. Get me good and wet. You want spit to work with. Trust me, this is a time drooling is good.”

Stiles snickered but agreed, sliding down Derek’s body and kneeling between his thighs. With a shy smile he lowered his head and began licking around Derek’s cockhead. Derek was mostly hard and responded well to Stiles’ enthusiastic kitten licks. When he began to slide his tongue beneath his foreskin to get at that musky flavor the alpha moaned in approval. Stiles had never garnered that response without Derek being fully in control and it was a serious power trip. Stiles gripped Derek’s shaft firmly and stroked it as he began to slick up his shaft with his tongue. It led to his damn tongue drying out before Derek’s cock was wet enough.

“Spit in your hand.”

“My hand?” Stiles asked, sitting back and working his tongue over his teeth in an effort to get spit going in his mouth again.

“Trust me, that whole spitting directly on dicks thing is for porn only. You want your hand slick and your mouth slick. My skin will follow.”

Stiles nodded and spit in his hand, licking it quickly to spread it around. When he gripped Derek again his hand moved easily and Stiles grinned as Derek hissed in approval. His knot was starting to form so Stiles decided to get serious. He leaned down and took Derek into his mouth, following the alpha’s instructions as he whispered to utilize his hand to avoid choking. Stiles went down as far as he was comfortable and used his hand to make up the difference. His jaw still hurt after a while, but it wasn’t the eye-watering torture of his previous attempts. Derek, meanwhile, was breathing hard beneath him, hips moving minutely as Stiles sucked him off.

“My knot’s going to pop,” Derek groaned.

Stiles’ ADHD kicked in and his brain started musing on why boners and knots ‘popped’ in lingo when they actually grew slowly. Derek pulled him up by his hair and glared at him.

“Fucking hell, are you even _here_ right now?!”

“Sorry, this is kinda boring,” Stiles replied lamely.

“Pleasuring your partner sometimes is,” Derek growled, “Promise I’ll return the favor. _If you focus!”_

“Fine! Okay!” Stiles agreed.

Derek released him and he dove down to suck at him enthusiastically. At Derek’s bidding he focused more on his tongue and hollowed his cheeks, moving his mouth over him and allowing his foreskin to glide on it’s own. Derek’s knot was fully expanded and Derek’s voice had turned reedy as he practically pleaded for Stiles to grip it with his free hand. Stiles’ knees hurt and his jaw was aching, but Derek’s absolutely wrecked voice was making him hard again. Stiles wrapped his free hand around Derek’s knot and began to methodically squeeze it, but Derek swore angrily.

“Just… fucking… _grip it_ , Stiles! FUCK!”

Stiles squeezed his knot while working his tongue in circles around Derek’s weeping head. The saltiness increased but before Stiles could brace himself to swallow down Derek’s copious load the alpha pulled him up and Stiles watched as Derek’s entire body tightened in pleasure and white fluids splattered across his torso. Derek was groaning, hips rolling as he fucked Stiles’ hand with desperate motions. Derek’s lips parted in pleasure, a drip of white at the corner where some of his come had managed to splash _into_ his mouth. It was worth all the effort Stiles had put into giving him head. The alpha was completely at his mercy and Stiles was rock hard and dripping wet.

“Oh my gods, you’re gorgeous,” Stiles breathed, climbing up Derek’s body, “Gonna ride you now.”

Stiles ran his hands through the mess on Derek’s body and smeared it above his head on the wall. Derek’s hand moved through the slick and rubbed his hands dry on their bed.

“We’re putting yours up front. I want your scent with me while I drive,” Derek panted.

“Gotta make me come first,” Stiles taunted as he sank down on Derek’s shaft.

“Not a problem,” Derek growled, then pulled Stiles forward to suck on his nipples hard enough to take the omega’s breath away. Stiles wriggled in longing, wanting Derek inside of him, but what he got were thick fingers working his slick along his needy passage. Derek’s fingers moved to his nose where he breathed in Stiles’ scent before smearing it along the headboard.

“Turn around,” Derek ordered.

“For a man who disdains porn you sure like position changes,” Stiles accused, then turned around as ordered.

Stiles found himself shifting up with Derek’s guidance, holding his heavy member upright so he could sink down onto it. Stiles wasn’t used to this position and wasn’t sure he liked the way he was seated. He wanted to face his mate, but having ridden him that way before he knew knotting could be a bit troublesome. Besides, getting Derek _inside_ was absolutely a necessity. Stiles sank down with a hiss at the now familiar burn and Derek groaned loudly behind him. His alpha’s grip on his hips was nearly painful and it grounded Stiles as he was split wide. By the time his ass hit thigh he was breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth. It was a glorious, heady feeling.

Derek’s thighs were a perfect grip for him, and when he urged him to he bent them just enough for Stiles to use as leverage. He was riding his mate, who was gasping and moaning in bliss behind him, with absolute power in each movement.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Derek gasped, “Flex those muscles. _Yeah_ , sweetheart, ride me!”

Stiles growled eagerly, clenching his muscles and drawing a gasp out of Derek. He was moaning constantly as he slid up and down Derek’s thick shaft. The knot was already there, Stiles just had to decide when he was going to take it and drop down hard. He couldn’t wait much longer, not with Derek stroking his posterior and moaning compliments to his slim backside. Stiles decided to tie them together without giving Derek his usual warning and dropped down hard, taking the knot and savoring the shout of shock followed by a loud string of curses. Derek’s legs flexed beneath his hands and the alpha’s claws dug into his hips. Stiles moaned as the knot jolted against his prostate as Derek helplessly humped against him. His hips ground flush against Stiles’ ass and the alpha let out a low groan. Stiles looked down and his eyes widened. Derek’s huge alpha balls were drawing tight against his body and Stiles watched as they nearly vanished inside his body at the same time as the pulse of fluids inside signaled Derek’s release.

“Fuck, fuck,” Derek gasped, “Touch yourself, I can’t…”

Stiles wasn’t opposed. He gripped his length and gave himself a squeeze as he began to roll his hips. This position was far better for Stiles to stimulate himself on Derek’s knot, even if it meant the alpha couldn’t reach him. He rotated his slender hips and caught himself drooling as pleasure made him shudder and shake in bliss. Stiles’ body was burning as he took up a firm stroke until he was spilling across Derek’s hairy thighs. The power of his climax was absolutely stunning. Stiles dwelled in bliss for several seconds, just panting through his pleasure as lights danced behind his eyes and his muscles clenched and released.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles moaned, shaking the last drops off. He ran his hands through the mess he’d made and smeared it across the mattress on either side of himself and Derek, “Gross.”

“Cleaner than pissing on things.”

“Urine’s sterile,” Stiles corrected, “But it does smell horrible. At least this will just neutralize things.”

Derek gave Stiles’ hips a gentle squeeze, “Can I…?”

“Can you what?” Stiles asked, stretching in Derek’s lap like a cat.

“I’m not… done.”

“Well, shit,” Stiles smirked over his shoulder, “You’re usually not up for this many rounds! Take me, captain. Take me hard.”

Derek rolled them and Stiles decided this _was_ his favorite position, because Derek taking up a mounting motion was _always_ amazing. His alpha bit down gently on the back of his neck and groaned as he gyrated his hips. Derek growled teasingly, thrilling Stiles with his powerful alpha voice.

“Mm, yeah, so deep. Deep voice, deep in my ass,” Stiles breathed.

Derek moaned and spilled into him again, filling Stiles’ abdomen with his thick cream. This time he could reach the omega and did so, tossing Stiles off with expert grip. Stiles had been so chuffed after the first he hadn’t expected to go again, but with Derek working him up it wasn’t a matter of maybe. Stiles whined as his sensitive nerves sparked and sent him wriggling back against his alpha. Derek growled eagerly and Stiles shot towards release at record speed. He howled out his pleasure, painting a cloth in Derek’s hand with his spunk to Derek’s enthusiastic approval. The alpha pulsed inside of him and let out a whine, as it became just a bit much.

The pair were soon panting, lying on their sides in the bed of their new home with Stiles feeling euphoric post orgasm. Derek stroked his hips and nibbled his shoulder lovingly. He breathed in Stiles’ scent and pulled him against his chest tightly.

“You’re gorgeous.”

“Mm, if that’s true how come nobody wanted me?”

“They did,” Derek snorted, “You had two other alphas after you at _our_ run alone. You didn’t want them. The better question would be- how the hell did I manage to win you over?”

“I like a good project,” Stiles teased.

“Mm.”

“Seriously, though,” Stiles sighed, “You saw me. Listened to me. You didn’t smell like shit.”

“You took a calculated risk.”

“I took the only option I felt I had,” Stiles replied, “No regrets. You?”

“None,” Derek sighed happily, “My knots going down. You ready for this mess?”

Stiles reached off the bed for the piles of clothes and managed to get a towel in hand, “You really want to spread this around?”

“It’s just come and slick,” Derek snorted, “You washed.”

“Yeah, but still. Ew.”

“You weren’t saying that when you were smearing your come around.”

“True. Okay. Here we go!”

Derek’s knot lowered enough that the alpha could pull free and Stiles hissed at the burn before putting the rag to his ass. Fluids flushed out until Stiles’ internal muscles locked down to keep some of them for possible pregnancy. His body wasn’t aware that it wasn’t on heat and therefore not fertile. Only betas reproduced outside of heat.

“Okay,” Stiles told him, “Here’s your mess.”

Derek took the messy rag and the one that contained Stiles’ spunk and began wiping it in strategic spots around the cab. Stiles noticed he wasn’t trying to put it in places they would be touching often, so at least he didn’t have to worry about sticking his hand right in it. Soon enough the cab smelled like home and Stiles felt a tense part of him he hadn’t noticed before unwind.

“Told you,” Derek stated.

“Fucking toddler,” Stiles taunted.

They spent a few hours organizing their possessions and Stiles took another shower. Derek lectured him on water conservation and how to use a composting toilet without making a mess everywhere. Stiles balked a bit but otherwise was fine with the situation. It was a vast improvement on the paid toilets and showers in the truck stops that separated him from his mate and safety. Stiles happily learned how to set things up in their new home and then settled in beside Derek in the passenger seat.

“Now we’ve got a long haul coming up and… damn, we should have gotten your paperwork in order. A long haul would be perfect for you to log your first hours.”

“You mean _this_ paperwork?” Stiles asked, holding it up, “Your creepy uncle totally filled it out for us.”

“That’s creepy,” Derek nodded, taking the paperwork, “I don’t even want to know how he knew your biometrics. You good for food?”

“I could eat.”

“We’ll get something in an hour.”

“M’kaaaay, and the paperwork?”

“Well, it’s submitted. You need to use our beloved wifi to log in and take the first test.”

“Oh,” Stiles blinked and then screamed, “Oh my _gods!_ We have _wifi!”_

Derek rubbed at one ear while Stiles pulled out his laptop and began happily typing away on it. Derek sighed in amusement at his mate’s antics and pulled out of the depot.

“So this last run I mentioned we’re running behind on-“

“-Which means you’re going to be unbearably cranky, yeah.”

“So we’re going to have to book it and you’re going to have to _not_ distract me.”

“I will endeavor to jerk off in our shower instead of across your glorious body.”

“Good,” Derek nodded, and parked in the depot’s drop point on the other side of the office. Derek climbed out to secure the trailer while Stiles set up their wifi password and create an account on California’s DMV site for CDL testing. Derek returned as Stiles was entering his credit card information in to take the first practice test.

“That was the easiest trailer hitch ever,” Derek grinned.

“They charge just to _practice_.”

“It’s serious shit hauling tons of metal down a road at high speeds, Stiles.”

“I know,” Stiles huffed, “It’s just annoying.”

“Peter will pay you well once it’s started up,” Derek told him, “He reimburses partners for training, too. We’ll be a two-for-one and two-fors log more hours. We still have to obey the ten hour rest period, but while I’m resting, you’re driving, and vice versa.”

“That sounds epic,” Stiles bounced, “And during the two hour off-duty we can talk and stuff.”

“Exactly,” Derek nodded, “We’ll be on opposite schedules but we’ll still be together and between loads we’ll sleep in the same bed and make love.”

Stiles glanced up, “Aww, you said make love!”

“Shut up or I’ll never say it again.”

Stiles laughed but dutifully bent his head to his lessons. After fourteen hours on the road Stiles was exhausted. He’d not slept much during their last break and computer work was downright exhausting and frustrating. Derek pulled into a truck stop and set them up for overnight stay with a sigh of relief. He looked tired as well, but still climbed out with Stiles so they could stretch and head in for some food. Stiles was learning fast that Derek’s healthy eating habits were important. He felt gross after a few days of fast food, so he picked up a smaller portion of meats and leaned heavily on salads and whatever fruits were available. He practically crowed when he saw apples and- recalling their new fridge space- bought several.

“We’re stopping at a grocery store earliest,” Stiles told him, “We can cook for ourselves now.”

“You know how to cook?” Derek asked.

“Bless your lack of assumptions,” Stiles laughed, “Yes, I can cook, and pretty well, too. No mother and a working dad, remember?”

Derek paused as they sat down at their table, “So we going to talk about _your_ trauma now?”

“What trauma?” Stiles scoffed.

“The one where Scott keeps calling you and you don’t answer?”

Stiles stared down at his food, “You checked my phone?”

“It rang while I was packing up. I answered it.”

“Shit.”

“It seems your best friend-“

“- _Former_ best friend.”

“-Is under the impression that I’m a murderer.”

“My dad knows you’re not,” Stiles sighed, “He… found the evidence we discussed and… he’s sweeping it under the rug. That just means that Scott’s out of the loop.”

“Okay,” Derek nodded, “Not really concerned about that. So how long are you going to ignore him?”

“What?” Stiles slammed his plastic fork down. It was less of an impact than he’d hoped and he gave it a disappointed look.

“Stiles, he chose _his_ mate,” Derek insisted, “He didn’t abandon you. He still wanted you as his packmate.”

Stiles frowned down at his food, “He tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“You were gone like, two minutes!” Stiles flailed.

“I’m a good listener.”

Stiles groaned and ran his fingers down his face dramatically, “Derek, I’ve put Scott behind me.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“ _Former_ best friend.”

“You talk about him in your sleep, Stiles,” Derek sighed, “It’s why I was convinced you wouldn’t commit. You cry out for him when you have nightmares.”

Stiles went still and Derek gave him a hurt look, “It’s like Lydia, right? Fuck, Stiles, tell me it’s like Lydia.”

“It’s… close enough for that to work, yeah,” Stiles licked his lips and gave up on eating until he finished the conversation, “We were like brothers. I thought that would translate to mates, but it didn’t. He couldn’t touch me. I couldn’t get excited for him. It was pointless, but he was my alpha and back then I wanted to be a good little omega so I wanted to go ass-up for him. I doubt it would have worked but it never got tested because he mounted someone else. I felt like shit and my dad blamed me for not finding a mate. He never let up about it and I spent the next several years going to runs and hating myself more every single day. It sucked.”

“It wasn’t Scott’s fault.”

“I know.”

“He says you contacted him, but then cut him off just as quickly.”

“I know.”

“You going to do something?”

“Like what?” Stiles asked, heart aching, “You’re my alpha now.”

“He can still be your best friend,” Derek soothed, taking Stiles’ hand, “Just… start slow. I think you really need him, Stiles. Talk to him over the phone. On the computer. Give him a chance. You probably won’t ever be as close again, but you can’t let someone so important to you go if… if they’re still alive you should… just try, okay?”

Stiles nodded, swallowing around a lump in his throat, “Okay. Yeah. You’re right, and… seriously, I’m committed to you.”

Derek smiled softly, “Thank you. While we’re on the subject, how’s your dad?”

Stiles had been just picking up his fork again but dropped it at that question, “Seriously? We’re going there?”

“You dragged me through my shit, now it’s my turn.”

Stiles picked up his fork and took a bite while considering Derek’s question, “It’s complicated. He’s trying here, but I’m not really sure what he’s trying for. He’s had this whole… not wanting me in his life thing. You know?”

“Has he?”

“He’s prejudiced,” Stiles pointed out.

“Why?”

Stiles sighed, “He says because my mom left. He thought werewolves were loyal. Now he’s questioning that.”

“Me, too,” Derek nodded, “It’s unusual for werewolves to abandon their mates, let alone their cubs. We… tend to get attached.”

“Mm,” Stiles ran a finger down Derek’s forearm, “I noticed. So what are you thinking? What made her leave?”

“ _Not_ you,” Derek’s eyes narrowed, “Granted omega children can be difficult and expensive to raise, but they’re still a blessing. Whatever was going on, she’s to blame. Not you.”

Stiles smiled fondly, “Thanks, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe,” Derek patted his hand and they both finished their food.

Stiles passed out hard during their break but woke up early enough to tear down the ugly artwork as Derek went for a run. Behind it he found a textured area that he liberally cleaned of glue so they had a nice clean, white backing to their little dinette. Stiles smiled at his handiwork and showed it off to Derek as he returned.

“Nice. Shower,” Derek headed away after a brief nod and Stiles sat down at the table to eat a bowl of oatmeal as Derek showered.

When Derek emerged he joined him and sipped the coffee Stiles had made fresh. He hummed appreciatively and Stiles beamed proudly. Derek was spoilt where coffee was concerned and Stiles had made sure to check the dates and buy quality beans at their last stop. Apparently what he’d served was passable because the alpha drank two cups before heading to the bathroom once more and then taking their toilet into the truck stop to empty it. He returned, washed up, and sat himself down in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, sexy,” Derek snapped out, “Back on the computer with you.”

Stiles moaned but buckled in at the dinette and continued his work on his CDL. It was going to be a long run.


	11. Chapter 11

“Okay,” Derek spoke in tense tones, “You’ve done this in my lap, just… do it solo.”

“You’re never going to let me drive Roscoe while you sleep, are you?”

“Roscoe?”

“Long story.”

Derek thought for a moment as Stiles finished the last of the pre-run checks and climbed into the driver’s seat. Derek sat in the passenger seat and nodded, “I like it.”

“Good,” Stiles chuckled, “It’s kind of grown on me.”

Stiles pulled out with a low hiss of excitement and tried not to bounce in his seat as he rode onto the highway for the first time outside of training. Peter had sent him an email congratulations card that had dancing men who mooned the receiver. Stiles thought it was hilarious but Derek got jealous and made him delete it.

“I’m doing it!” Stiles crowed.

“Just stay calm,” Derek cautioned, “Easy, okay? No freaking out, here.”

“I’m not freaking out, you’re freaking out,” Stiles scoffed, “This awesome.”

“We’re going to log hours separate, which means I can only be up here for two hours of my off-shift.”

“I know,” Stiles nodded, “I passed the test, Derek. You taught me to drive yourself. You were an amazing- and occasionally horny- teacher. Everything is fine.”

Derek stayed up front for two hours, anxious and giving Stiles and the road stares of horror. When he finally laid down in their bed Stiles let out a sigh of relief and the omega relaxed a bit in the driver’s seat. He didn’t expect Derek to actually sleep, but apparently conditioning himself to sleep directly after his shift paid off and the alpha was soon snoring away. The trip was uneventful and Stiles got to the unloading zone during his shift. He belted up- promising himself a more comfortable one with his first paycheck- since Derek was still sleeping and headed out to deal with their receiver. This was a quick unload with a drop in the same warehouse. Derek never let others load his tailor and Stiles wasn’t about to bend the rules on his first run. He argued about his right to use their pallet trucks and then loaded each and every one himself. He was quick and efficient, checking the entire list twice before getting back in the truck, typing their next destination into their fancy-ass GPS, and setting off with a feel of accomplishment in his gut.

It was at his final shift hour that Derek woke up, knocked down the netting, and hurried forward to see what was going on.

“The fuck, Stiles?!” Derek raged, “Our load was ten miles back!”

“I handled it, Derek. It’s handled.”

“What the fuck do you mean, it’s handled?!” Derek shouted.

“Dude, _calm down!”_ Stiles spat out, “Are we a two-up or not?”

“Two- _for_ , not two _-up_ , this isn’t Australia and it’s not your fucking shows, Stiles! Pull over!”

“What the fuck?” Stiles swore angrily, tossing on his flashers and pulling over once he saw a big enough shoulder.

“I should spank you like Peter said!” Derek raged, climbing out of the truck with his clipboard in hand.

“The fuck did you just say?!” Stiles shouted, climbing after him and automatically grabbing their reflector on the way. He tossed it behind the truck and rounded on Derek as he opened the trailer and climbed in.

“I swear, if you fucked up this run I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” Stiles snarled, climbing over a pallet and glaring at his husband, “Treat me like a Victorian age omega? You going to beat me, Derek?!”

“I should!” Derek snarled, “This is more than just my _business,_ Stiles! This is my life! Trucking gave me purpose after my family died! It gave me the routine I needed to not fucking _kill myself!_ ”

“Yeah, and when that failed you took up _me_ , and I’m your _partner_ , Derek! I know this truck, I loaded it, and this is _my fucking run, too!”_

Derek was as far in as he could go, counting pallets and comparing the contents to the roster. Stiles fumed as Derek ignored him in favor of inventory. He turned around and sat down on the edge of the trailer and thought about how much he’d tell Derek off once the load was counted and the asshole apologized.

Derek finished and headed toward the back, jumping down onto the road and picking up their reflective sign, “Let’s go.”

“The fuck do you mean, ‘let’s go’?!” Stiles shrieked back.

“We have a load to deliver. _Let’s go_ ,” Derek replied, and started towards the front while Stiles’ fury did its best approximation of exploding like a volcano.

Stiles stomped up front to find Derek in the driver’s seat turning the GPS off and adjusting the radio to the local news and traffic stations. Stiles stood with one knee on the seat and glared down at him angrily.

“What?” Derek asked.

“You. Fucking. Asshole.”

“Sit down or go in the back,” Derek replied evenly.

“You just spewed sexist bullshit at me and cursed me out for _doing my job_. How the fuck are you just sitting there like nothing is going on?!”

“I checked the load,” Derek replied in a dull tone, “It’s fine.”

“The _load_ didn’t tell me I should be spanked!”

Derek paused in his check-up and sighed, “What do you want to hear, an apology?”

“No, I want you to write a sonnet to my ass and sing it at a dinner party, _yes I want an apology!”_

“I’m sorry,” Derek stated, “I was tired and I panicked. You didn’t deserve that. My routine is… _was_ … everything to me. I’m not used to letting someone else handle something. It makes me think about everything that could go wrong, like you being crushed while loading pallets or something.”

“So you checked the back for what? My mangled remains?” Stiles gestured wildly.

Derek closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I checked the back because counting the load calms me down. Obviously I knew you weren’t dead. I handled it poorly. I’m _sorry._ ”

Stiles sat down, “You’re still an asshole.”

“Nothing new there,” Derek grumbled, and pulled them off the road, “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have threatened to spank you, especially since it’s pretty clear you’re the sadist in this relationship.”

“Me?! I’m-“ Stiles paused, recalling all the times he’d held Derek’s knot hostage and reconsidered, “Okay, fair point. I forgive you.”

“Two hours, then you go back to sleep,” Derek reminded him, tapping the log books, “Fill out and sign off. How were things?”

“Fine. They tried to argue about pallet loaders.”

“Mm.”

“I used your same arguments and all was well.”

“Except you don’t have a license to drive pallet loaders.”

Stiles snorted, “You do, and I didn’t tell them my name. Just showed them your papers.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Wake me next time.”

“Fine,” Stiles pouted.

Derek was silent a moment, and then, “Unless it’s a hand cart delivery.”

Stiles beamed at him and Derek settled in to his shift with ease.


	12. Chapter 12

Stiles climbed out of the truck and stretched, putting his arm’s high above his head as he popped a few joints. Derek was asleep inside but Stiles wasn’t belted in. He was confident that he was safe here, and his father stepping outside to greet him had him letting out a breath of relief. John strode forward, hesitated a moment, took in Stiles’ grin, and pulled him in for a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Stiles breathed, hugging him tightly right back.

“Can’t believe you’re here.”

“Dropped our last load the last town over,” Stiles stepped back, “Derek’s asleep but he’ll join us when he wakes. Mind if I use your shower? I’m tired of hitting my elbows in ours.”

“You really have a shower in that thing?” John asked, giving the truck a curious look. Their trailer was at the depot where it would be spending the holidays since driving through them was useless with all the Christmas travelers.

“Yeah, but I’ll give you a tour later. You should see the painting I made above the dinette in daylight. It’s freaking amazing.”

“It’s nude guys, isn’t it?” John asked.

Stiles chuckled, “Not exactly.”

They headed inside and Stiles sniffed his familiar childhood home while his father tensed beside him. Stiles gave him a scolding glance.

“This is who I am. Nothing wrong with it.”

“You had so much trouble finding a mate because of your werewolf heritage.”

“No,” Stiles reminded him, “I had trouble because my mate was traveling around as a trucker.”

“From what I’ve found out, he was an omega,” John pointed out.

“So?” Stiles shrugged, “He’s not anymore and even if he was, that’s happened from time to time. It’s rare, but whatever.”

“I’m worried about you, Stiles,” John told him.

“We going to start this already?” Stiles snapped.

“Not anything bad,” John put his hands up, “Just… you haven’t mentioned going on heat.”

“Hasn’t happened yet,” Stiles shrugged.

“It’s been over a year.”

“I’m on suppressants since our schedules aren’t exactly our own. We’re going to put me off them in March or April in time for the rainy season. Some of our runs aren’t possible when the snow melts near the mountains.”

John nodded, “And you’re okay with that?”

“Sure,” Stiles nodded, “Not like we’re monks in between.”

John held up his hand and made a face so Stiles laughed at him and headed upstairs to see that his old room was made up into an office like his father had always said he’d go and do. Stiles wasn’t bothered. His bedroom was in Roscoe with Derek snoozing away inside the warm interior. He washed up in luxury and joined his dad after redressing in the same clothes. His dad frowned at that but Stiles knew they were clean. They’d stopped at a Laundromat the day before and washed everything except their most tattered clothes, which had been on their bodies as they stood in the Laundromat and mocked each other playfully. Thankfully by the time he got downstairs Derek was awake and joining his father for a beer so there was someone to distract John from nagging Stiles.

“Wolfsbane beer?” Stiles asked hopefully.

“Picked it up yesterday,” John admitted, “You’re all grown up now. Figured you’d want something you can _feel_ in the house.”

“Thanks!” Stiles churped, accepting a bottle from his father and leaning against Derek’s side, “I promised him a tour of Roscoe.”

Derek nearly spat up his beer, “You remember how we… scent marked it?”

“Humans can’t tell,” Stiles snorted. His father was giving him an odd look so Stiles reassured him, “It’s totally clean inside. Promise.”

Their tour was brief by necessity and Stiles was proud of the painting on their big wall. It was a mural map of California an the surrounding states that he and Derek drove regularly with main highways included. He’d made it to scale and was damn proud of it. Derek was as well, and had even gone so far as to let someone lean into the cab and take a peak at it on more than one occasion.

“So after dinner?” John asked, then left it hanging.

Stiles nodded. He knew what John was referring to. Stiles was biting the bullet and going over to Scott’s house for a visit after the kids were in bed. It would be the first time he met and spoke to Allison since he’d only briefly seen her at high school before Scott and Stiles had become estranged. It was a tense situation but Derek had promised to be there for him so Stiles was trying to relax.

Dinner with his father was strained but uneventful. His father got well and drunk and went to bed after hugging Stiles tightly and asking him to give him grandkids. Stiles calmly told him there was no chance of that in hell and shoved him towards his bedroom. After that they were eager to give him room so they got back in their truck and drove over to Scott’s place. Scott had taken an apartment above the local vet clinic after having bought it off of the previous owner. Stiles had always found the place creepy since animals tended to be bothered by werewolves, but Scott was a natural alpha so they obeyed him automatically.

The two headed upstairs with Derek’s hand on the small of Stiles’ back. He guided him up to the apartment door and knocked for the anxious omega.

“Why was my dad easier to deal with?” Stiles whined.

“Because he was in the wrong,” Derek replied, “You know full well that you’re in the wrong here.”

“Damn you and your unflinching ability to state the facts.”

Scott answered the door with a big, toothy smile on his stupid, crooked face. He practically hauled Stiles inside and lifted him up off the floor while hugging him tightly. Stiles laughed and Scott spun him around before setting him down and grinning broadly.

“You look fantastic!” Scott crowed.

“You look fat!” Stiles laughed, patting his belly.

“Allison learned how to cook in Italy,” Scott laughed, “I need to start playing Lacrosse again. Come and meet her!”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles laughed lightly, then reached back to the entrance for Derek where he was sulking over having Stiles manhandled by another alpha.

Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles as he stepped forward into the McCall residence. Allison flowed forward like an angel and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ cheek and curtseyed to Derek with a huge smile gracing her beautiful face. Derek seemed uneasy around her but didn’t make a fuss when they were urged to the kitchen’s bar island. There they sat while Scott and Allison served decaf coffee and dessert. Stiles kept his hand on Derek’s knee for most of the meal while Scott told him about their kids, his career, and Allison’s teaching degree.

“She’s the most beautiful Phys Ed teacher ever,” Scott swooned, “She’s got a degree in math as well, but they haven’t a position open for her so she’s just doing Phys Ed for now.”

“Oi! I like teaching Phys Ed!” Allison laughed.

Stiles smiled at her, wondering why he’d vilified her for so long. She was sweet, charming, and patient; clearly a perfect match for the dense but kind Scott. Hours flew by and it wasn’t until Stiles started yawning in exhaustion that he realized he’d been awake for nearly twenty hours. Derek gave him a shoulder nudge and a concerned look and he nodded that it was time to head out. He got another breathless hug from Scott and pecked a shy kiss to Allison’s cheek. As he was heading out the door he quickly turned around and hugged Scott tightly again.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, getting a glimpse of damp eyes as he pulled away.

“Love you, man,” Scott replied, a bit choked up.

“Love you, too,” Stiles admitted, then let Derek tug him away.

Once out in the hallway his own alpha mate pulled Stiles in to rub his chin over his head and shoulders, scenting him even as he told him he was glad Stiles had reconnected with Scott.

“I’m never going to hear the end of him, am I?” Derek sighed as he walked down the steps with Stiles.

“Nope,” Stiles laughed, “We’re a pair, Derek. You’re officially married to _both_ of us now.”

“Great,” Derek rolled his eyes and opened the door for Stiles.

“Aww, my gentleman,” Stiles kissed his nose and climbed straight into the back to collapse on the bed, “I’m exhausted.”

Derek chuckled, “I’m going to park at your dad’s place and then join you.”

“You’re tired?”

“I could sleep. Mostly I just want to wrap around you.”

“Mm, sounds nice. I’m tired, though so… kinda not in the mood.”

“I’ll survive,” Derek rolled his eyes.

By the time they reached his house Stiles was passed out and barely registered Derek climbing into bed with him. The alpha drew up the blankets around them and snuggled in against Stiles’ body as he stirred with the addition of a body to their bed.

“Mm, miss you sleeping next to me,” Stiles muttered, but was quickly drifting back to sleep.

Before he fully drifted off he heard Derek whisper against his neck, “I’ll always be near by, Stiles. Even in Washington. My beautiful, brave omega.”

 

A/N So this is where I ran out of ideas. It was getting boring. If anyone has a cool suggestion for why Stiles’ mom left him or something I might go for it and write a second, but at this point I’m feeling like this is done.


End file.
